


20 Feet

by TwoSexySlytherins



Series: Zabini-Potter Chronicles [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: AU after book 5, Action, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Eventual mpreg, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-06-06
Updated: 2016-11-29
Packaged: 2017-12-14 04:05:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Underage
Chapters: 26
Words: 205,666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/832529
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TwoSexySlytherins/pseuds/TwoSexySlytherins
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><b>Summary:</b> All 6th year students are assigned a partner and given a semester-long charms project. Between secret meetings with Dumbledore and suspicious Slytherins, Harry could care less about charms, but when he's partnered with Blaise Zabini he can't help but devote a little more time and energy to the project. Blaise/Harry (because there really aren’t enough of those). Eventual mpreg. Compliant through OotP. Uses some plot points from HBP and DH, but not compliant for those.</p><p><b>Disclaimer:</b> This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoat Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys, I've been working on this fic for a while now, and I've been debating posting here for a while so here it goes. I have been posting on HPFandom, so if you read there and happened to come across this there no worries. :) I hope you guys like it. I have 13 chapters written so far, and I'll post twice a week until I catch up with myself, and then I'll post once every two weeks on the same schedule as my HPFandom posts. Um that's all, so I hope you guys enjoy this. :D Read and Review!  
> -TSS

**A/N: Let me preface this by saying that I have read all of the Harry Potter books, most of them more than once, and I’ve seen most of the movies. I only watched part of six because I wasn’t really a fan of that book. That said it’s a little ironic that I’m starting this fic during HBP. This fic is compliant from book 1 to book 5, and it is slightly compliant through book six. I’ve taken the major aspects of book six because it just has so much to work with, leading into book seven even though it’s not my favorite. Also, I like the characters’ ages in book 6. I want them to be 16, and I didn’t want to change the years they were born and all that. I thought that would be just too much to ask, so here we are. It’s slightly AU/slight canon through HBP, but it is compliant from book 1 to 5. If you’re at all confused just let me know in a comment or something. Also, before I forget… because HBP wasn’t one of my favorites, I only read it once, and I only watched a little of the movie, so some things may be off. If you feel the need, you can let me know in a comment. I don’t mind. Just no flames…I’m only human; I forget things too, and on top of that this is slightly AU, so whatever’s different may be that way intentionally. Now, I’m done talking about all of that mess, so onwards with the fic. Please Read and Review I’ll be ever so happy!  
\- TSS**

Chapter 1

Hermione sighed looking over the table at Harry who was scowling over his shoulder, “Harry, will you give it a rest already? The term has only just started; what evil could Malfoy be doing or plotting this early in the year?”

Harry turned away from the Slytherin table and eyed Hermione with slight irritation. He didn’t know how many times he had to have this conversation before she would just drop it. He was no longer pestering her or Ron About it, so why should she care who he looked at during breakfast.  
Luckily, Ron interjected before he could, “It’s ne’er too early for tha ‘erret to be plottin’ Mione,” Ron said. 

She looked at him with a very disgruntled expression, “Chew your food before you talk Ronald. That’s disgusting.” 

Ron swallowed and shrugged. She’d been saying the same thing since they were eleven. Maybe she was the one who needed to give it a rest.

Turning back to Harry, Hermione continued, “You’ve been really distracted by Malfoy this year, and he’s hardly spoken two words to you all term-”

“Exactly! You don’t think that’s odd at all?” Harry asked exasperatedly. 

The girl shook her head, “No I don’t; people grow up Harry,” she admonished, eyeing both Harry and Ron critically. Harry heard the unvoiced, ‘Perhaps you two should try it too’ loud and clear. 

Ron apparently missed it as he further attacked his breakfast, refilling his plate while finishing off a bite of toast. “You have to admit,” The red head began without looking up at Harry, “You have been a little off this term. You’re hardly there when we talk about quiddich mate.”

Hermione rolled her eyes, and Harry was yet again interrupted before he could respond, “Quiddich, that’s what you’re worried about? When will you ever change Ron? You need to reevaluate your priorities. NEWTS are coming up next year, and we have that semester-long charms assignment beginning today. How can you be worried about quiddich?” 

“Quiddich is important!” Ron exclaimed, “We lost two starters last year, and the new recruits don’t look that great. Honesty, unless we shape up we might actually lose the cup this year,” Ron imagined, horrified. He turned to Harry for support who was trying to tune them out. He was sick of their arguing almost as much as their nagging. They didn’t trust him anymore it seemed, and maybe they never fully did, but either way he was losing his patience with them. His instincts were screaming that something was up with Malfoy, and he always trusted his instincts…well when they weren’t being tricked by Voldemort. Over the summer though, he’d tried really hard to develop his occlumency skills to avoid future deaths like Sirius’. He still felt partially to blame for his Godfather’s death, and he didn’t want to experience that again. His occlumency was still bollox without a teacher, but he felt that he was progressing, and he could only be thankful that Voldemort wasn’t trying to invade his mind currently. 

Rather than respond to Ron and add fuel to their argument he just stood and grabbed his bag. “Look, I’m going to head to class. I want to get a decent seat in charms without having to rush,” he sighed heavily. He really didn’t feel like dealing with them at all, but he couldn’t just ditch them like he wanted. That would only exacerbate the nagging from both ends, “Are you two coming?”

Hermione eyed him critically before grabbing her bag and following. Ron just waved them off and scooted over towards Neville, Dean, and Seamus. “I want to finish this,” he said pointing towards his plate. 

Harry shrugged and walked out of the Great Hall towards Flitwick’s charms class.

\---:::---

“Good morning everyone, I hope you’re all excited about your assignments today. I’ve guarded them well, so you should all be surprised by your tasks,” Professor Flitwick said in a chipper voice from his stand at the front of the class.

He cleared his throat and flicked his wand; a rolled piece of parchment flew into his tiny gnarled hand, “Another thing, your partners have been chosen by me this year.”

Many of the students groaned, eyeing their class members warily. As usual, the Gryffindors were grouped with the Slytherins, so many of the students were worried about mixing. Harry for his part couldn’t really care less. There weren’t great prospects from either of the houses in his opinion. Ron would be a terrible partner because of his procrastination. Hermione…well he hated to even think of being partnered with her on a semester-long assignment that determined the majority of their grade. Neville, while he meant well really was quite clumsy, and it would be difficult to get much done without accident. Harry had to admit though, glancing over at the boy, Neville was pleasant to be around, not loud or bossy, and he was slowly becoming more confident and less awkward. Harry absolutely didn’t want to be paired with Malfoy though. He would concede to the fact that the blonde had been better this year, but Malfoy really couldn’t stand Harry, and Harry didn’t want to put up with his acerbic personality for an entire year. On the other hand, partnering with him might help him figure out what the bloke was up to. 

“Potter and Zabini.”

Harry looked up when he heard his name, startled to find that Flitwick had started pairing the students already. He looked around to note that many of the pairs were already sitting together and everyone was waiting to see who would move first between himself and Zabini. Harry rolled his eyes at the drama. What are we first years again? He stood up and moved over to the Slytherin side of the room, ignoring Ron who was shooting him sympathetic looks. Harry waited patiently for Malfoy to relinquish his seat, so that Harry could sit next to the taller dark skinned Italian boy. 

Malfoy gave him a benign look of indifference as he stood up, and moved to the back of the room to wait and see who he his partner was. As Harry moved to sit, he surreptitiously snuck a glance at his partner. He confessed to not knowing much at all about the Zabini boy. He knew that once Malfoy dropped Crabbe and Goyle a couple of years ago that Zabini and the Greengrass girl seemed to take their place, but that was it really. Zabini hardly ever spoke, and he never antagonized Harry. 

Looking him up and down, Harry couldn’t ignore Zabini’s good looks. People tended to overlook the Italian when he was beside Malfoy because that platinum blonde hair was so eye-catching, but the mocha boy had his own silent steely charm that Harry now noticed right away. Zabini had broad shoulders that Harry just knew were muscled and strong. He was tall. Harry knew this from seeing him with Malfoy. Malfoy was about three or four inches taller than Harry, and Zabini was even taller than him. He had smooth unblemished mocha skin, and curly black locks. It was cut very short on the sides and in the back, but it was about an inch and a half high on top. Harry could only imagine that they were baby soft. He felt his hand twitch with the desire to reach up and see, and he turned swiftly away. _What the hell was that about? I’m sure Malfoy’s hair is soft, and I’ve never had the urge to touch his head._

After the disaster at the Department of Mysteries, Harry had made a firm decision to never lie to himself. He knew that he desperately needed to learn occlumency, but he’d convinced himself – lied to himself really – that he didn’t need it, especially if he had to learn it from Snape. That in part led to Sirius’ death, and Harry would never do it again. Because of that conviction, he wasn’t going to lie to himself and say that he wasn’t attracted on a physical level to Blaise Zabini. The boy was damn good looking now that Harry was taking the time to notice, but what he couldn’t figure out was why he’d had the urge to touch him. Harry realized over the years that he thought a number of people were attractive both guys and girls, but he hardly ever had the desire to act on it, to pursue it further than just looking. Still, just now he’d wanted to touch Zabini. _It must be his animal magnetism,_ Harry snickered to himself.

Flitwick’s voice distracted him again. “You are to begin your assignment today, brainstorming and planning research and times to meet. If you have any ideas you want to try immediately, you may use the practical casting area, but be forewarned that I will not be aiding you in any fashion during class or outside of it. You are to do this project on your own without any help, and you are to keep your assignment a secret if at all possible. At the end of the first term we will be revealing each group’s assignments. With that said, don’t worry too much as I know what each of your projects are I will have a class dedicated to some topic that I believe will be helpful to you. From here on out, each class will have a different topic tailored to one group’s specific assignment, but do pay close attention because you may find the lectures helpful to any number of you. Now, without further ado I’ll pass out the assignments. 

With another flick of his wand, tiny bits of parchment that Harry didn’t notice on the half-goblin’s desk flew up into the rafters, playfully flying around and through each other in a small mass before flying down to their designated pairs. The sheet for Harry and his partner landed in between them on the desk, and they put their heads together to read it. Harry inhaled Zabini’s scent and flicked his eyes towards the young man who for all intents and purposes seemed to be ignoring him. 

Harry also turned his attention to the parchment. It said in a small neat script, _Improve upon the accio charm._ That was it, no guidelines, no guidance on where to start, no help. Harry sighed and sat back. A murmur began around the room as the pairs began to talk about the project. They still had about an hour left in the class, so they may as well begin too Harry thought. 

“Do you have any ideas?” He asked quietly. 

Zabini sat back and looked at Harry for the first time, studying him closely. Harry tried his hardest not to squirm, but it was certainly difficult. Zabini’s eyes were a color Harry had never seen before a kind of ashy, faded out black that one would think would be ugly, but on Zabini it wasn’t. They made him appear even more exotic because they seemed to bleed into a dark purple that Harry could glimpse for a second before he lost it as if the color was sifting in and out of a black film. Harry knew that that was impossible, but it was mesmerizing all the same. 

“Are your eyes purple?” He blurted out breathlessly.

Zabini seemed to be taken aback; his eyes opened wide, and he leaned back in his seat as he tried to increase the distance between them. He cleared his throat, and ignored Harry question. 

“I have a few ideas that we could start with,” Zabini intoned, his rich voice flowing over Harry’s senses like dark chocolate. “But, they will be useless if we don’t first decide what aspect of the charm we want to alert or improve,” He finished quietly. 

Giving himself a mental shake, Harry nodded. _Keep it together Potter. He’s attractive. I get it, but there’s no need to lose my marbles over it. You don’t even like this guy._

_You don’t even know him,_ a voice in his head antagonized.  
 _Oh great, I have to play devil’s advocate even with myself._

_Don’t change the subject!_

Harry nearly growled. _I know I don’t know him which is another reason why I shouldn’t be acting this way._

_You could get to know him._

_No!_

His inner voice seemed to sigh. _It could be a good way to garner information about Malfoy; it will help with the partner aspect of the project, and who knows maybe he could be a good friend since your current ones aren’t behaving so greatly._

Harry couldn’t deny that he was frustrated with Hermione and Ron, and all of the voice’s reasons did make some sense, but Harry couldn’t help but remain cautious. If the Department of Mysteries taught him anything, it was to take things slow, stop jumping in head first into everything. He could be a good friend if he isn’t already among Voldemort’s ranks.  
The voice grew quite, and Harry couldn’t decide if he was happy that he’d bested the voice, or if he was disappointed that he couldn’t find a reason to overcome this particular doubt and maybe pursue something more than just a working relationship with the sexy Slytherin. Something about the Italian was enticing, and Harry, while trying to maintain caution couldn’t help but acknowledge that. He sighed lightly when he suddenly thought of something helpful. _Isn’t the Zabini family neutral?_ Harry smiled a little half smile. He could work with that.

\---:::---

“Potter?” Blaise tried getting the Gryffindor’s attention for the second time. He was with him for a second, and then he was gone into another world it seemed like. At first Blaise was irritated because he thought Potter was ignoring him, but when he smiled that tiny smile he realized that he was thinking about something.

Blaise couldn’t imagine what, but he found himself wanting to know about it. Harry looked, dare he say it, cute and almost sweet like that. He wanted to know what would make him smile like that. Prior to this class Blaise hardly gave much thought to the Gryffindor Golden Boy; he just didn’t really care for much of the hype, but when Potter didn’t cause a scene when they were partnered together and made that comment about his eyes…well Blaise had decided to give the boy the benefit of the doubt. It was clear that Potter had changed some over the years. Blaise could see that, and so until he gave him reason to be hostile he wouldn’t be. But that smile, Blaise suppressed the butterflies trying to take flight in his stomach; the small Gryffindor really was kind of cute with his big eyes, crazy hair, and small stature. 

“Potter?” He questioned a little louder this time, making the other boy jump a little. “I asked if you had any ideas on what you want to alter about the accio spell?”

\---:::---

**A/N: I’ll go ahead and say that I don’t know whether accio is classified as a spell or a charm. I feel like there is some classification difference between charms and spells, but I’ll tell you right now that I don’t know it, so for the purposes of this fic we’ll just say that charms and spells are pretty much synonymous. I really, really hope that you guys are excited about this fic. I know I am. Blaise/Harry is one of my absolute favorite pairing and there aren’t nearly enough out there, so I decided to write this. I have thirteen chapters written and beta’d, so I’ve decided to start posting twice a week until I catch up with myself then I’ll only post once every two weeks. This is still a WIP though. I hope that you will all like it. Please R &R (read & review) they’re my motivation. Um…that’s all for now.  
**  
-TSS 


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

“Tempus,” Blaise intoned. With a small sigh he began packing his books into his bag and made to stand up.

“Where are you going Blaise,” Pansy’s shrill voice sounded as she walked down into the common room from the dorms. He barely resisted rolling his eyes. The girl was impossible sometimes, entirely too inquisitive. 

“Do you know where Draco is?”

_No I don’t, and if I did I certainly wouldn’t tell you. He’s already stressed. I’m not about to help you run him around the bend._ “I’m going to work on my charms project,” he said. 

“Oh,” she smirked, dragging the word out dramatically as she walked over. “How is it working with Potty-Potter?” she asked, gaining the entire room’s attention. It seemed that everyone wanted to know the same thing, but they didn’t have the courage to ask him themselves. 

Blaise shouldered his bag, “It’s fine Pansy. Why don’t you worry about your partner rather than mine? Now, I really must leave; I don’t want to be late.” 

“In such a hurry to run off to our resident savior, are you?” she sneered. 

“Oh give it a rest Pansy,” a smooth voice spoke from the common room entrance.

“Dracey!” she shrieked, thankfully, forgetting all about Blaise.

Blaise arched an eyebrow as he stared over her head at his best friend. _You didn’t have to do that, he said with his eyes._

Draco shrugged his shoulders. _You owe me one._

Blaise shook his head with a smirk as he left, passing Draco and the loud-mouthed girl plastered to his side. “I’ll send Daphne your way if I see her,” Blaise whispered to his blonde friend. Draco would surely loose his mind if he was left alone with Pansy too long. 

Draco nodded his thanks and sauntered into the common room, like he didn’t have a care in the world, but Blaise knew otherwise. He saw the glamours Draco applied every morning, the potions he took to just to stay awake in class, and he was aware every time the boy left the dorms late at night. Something was up with his best friend, and it had Blaise worried. It wasn’t like Draco to keep secrets from him, and this seemed like a huge secret. 

The Slytherin sighed. _I’ll try to talk to him about it this weekend._

Stopping on the seventh floor, Blaise walked past the blank wall three times. _I want to see Harry Potter. I want to see Harry Potter. I want to see Harry Potter._

In seconds, a door shimmered into existence. 

“Hi Zabini.”

\---:::---

Blaise watched as Harry sat on the edge of the comfortable brown suede couch, mumbling to himself and looking over the many parchments scattered over the low table in front of him. Blaise watched the shaggy haired boy for a little longer as he bit his lip and ran his hands through his hair before clearing his throat to get Harry’s attention.

“It’s ready now,” he spoke lowly, trying not to the startle the Gryffindor. Though he hid it well, Blaise noticed over the last two weeks they’d been meeting up to work on the charms project that Potter was easily startled. Blaise couldn’t really account for it, and it puzzled him, but he supposed he’d be easily startled too if a madman was trying to kill him at every turn. 

Harry looked up and pinned him with his gaze before glancing past him at the low stone wall Blaise had erected in front of a ceramic pot on a pedestal. Well, considering the fact that they were in the Room of Requirement the Slytherin didn’t really do much to erect the wall, but that wouldn’t stop him from taking credit, he smirked. 

“Right,” Harry said, standing up and pulling out his wand. “Are you ready Zabini?” he asked.

Blaise arched a skeptical eyebrow, “Are _you_ ready?” he countered. 

Harry just snorted and took his place beside his partner and lifted his wand. Of course he was ready. This was the part of the experiment he felt most comfortable with the. The application of their spell was relatively easy, as long as the boys stayed in sync. It was the theory that boggled Harry. It seemed straight forward during the early development stages, but it seemed to get more and more complicated the more they worked on it. If it weren’t for Zabini’s patient explanations, Harry knew that he would never have gotten past the second week of research.

Their assignment was to alter the accio charm one way another to enhance the efficacy of the charm. It didn’t take Harry long to decide what he wanted to change about the spell. Whenever he accio’d anything the object would bounce around the room knocking things over and breaking fragile objects. He wanted to alter the spell to avoid the mess usually left in the wake of the summoning. It was Blaise’s idea to have the object charmed to pass through surrounding objects rather than trying to find a path around them which inevitably leads to a large mess. 

The easiest way to do this, they figured, was to have the object temporarily adopt the properties of the surrounding objects, so it could easily pass through them: wood for wood, metal for metal, glass to glass etc. The issue with this is if the object needed to pass through more than one object. It can’t have more than one set of properties and expect to pass through them all. Furthermore, the caster, if he couldn’t see the object he wanted to summon which is usually the case, can’t tell what material the summoned object needed to pass through, so he wouldn’t know what properties to charm the object to adopt. This led them to settle on a universal property, a single property that the summoned object would adopt to pass through any object or space. That was the most difficult aspect of the project thus far. 

They had considered both water and air, but neither of those worked because they didn’t consistently pass through every possible blockade. There needed to be some kind of crack for air to pass through, and those weren’t always available. Water provided the same problem, not to mention the fact that you’d get the room wet when summoning the object which could be just as destructive as the regular accio charm. So, it had to be something even finer than that, and that was where they’d hit their first roadblock. How could they create something that they couldn’t even imagine or name? What was thinner than air? More importantly, what on this Earth aside from wild magic couldn’t be contained?

During one of their research sessions, Harry had become frustrated and dropped his head on the desk they were sharing in the library when they’d come across a possible solution. 

_“This is like trying catch your shadow,” he groaned._

_Blaise snorted and flipped a page, ‘Gryffindors and their theatrics…wait!’ “What did you say Potter?”_

_“Hmmm,” Harry asked, lifting his head and gazing at Zabini. He was surprised to see his partner with a semi-excited expression on his face. The Slytherin looked like he was two steps away from genuinely smiling. At that moment, Harry realized that that smile was something he really wanted to see. What would Zabini look like without that indifferent mask on his face? Would his face light up? Would those cobalt eyes sparkle? Would Harry be able to see that fleeting purple swirl in his irises again? He gave himself a mental shake and blinked, “Nothing, it was just a muggle phrase.”_

_Zabini stifled a grimace. He really didn’t like muggles. He disagreed with killing them all because it seemed like a futile goal, but he didn’t have any desire to associate with them. He wasn’t sure how Potter felt about it since he was muggle-raised, so he tried not to mention it, but that wasn’t important right now._

_“What was it anyway?”_

_Now Harry was really curious. He sat up and tried to recall exactly what he’d said. “This is like trying to catch your shadow.”_

_“Yes, that!” Blaise exclaimed._

_“Quite down over there!” Madam Pince shh’d them firmly._

_Blaise just ignored her. “What does that mean exactly?” He asked. He knew where he was going with this, but he wanted Potter to catch up on his own. He noticed that Potter was plenty smart on his own, but he never had much encouragement, not that Blaise was surprised with the know-it-all suffocating the Gryffindor all of the time. He often wondered why the Headmaster didn’t nurture his Golden Boy more. If Blaise was taking care of the smaller boy, he would…Well it didn’t make any sense to go down that road._

_Luckily, Harry interrupted his wayward thoughts, “It just means that no matter what you can’t catch your own shadow. Trust me,” he laughed lightly, “I tried enough times when I was younger and didn’t have anyone to talk to or play with except my shadow. I was always frustrated because it always skirted away from my hand, and it never spoke back to me.”_

_Blaise arched an eyebrow, ‘Was Potter stupid as a child or just really lonely?’ Catching the brief despondent expression flicker across his face, he assumed it was probably the latter. Blaise had the inexplicable urge to comfort the boy, but the expression was quickly replaced with excited realization._

_“The shadows, they can go anywhere no matter the size or shape of the space. If there’s light, it can pass. Hell if there isn’t then that’s all the better,” Potter laughed joyously at the breakthrough, and Blaise couldn’t fight the tiny smile that graced his face at the Gryffindor’s enthusiasm. It was catching, and he looked damn good smiling like that._

When Blaise lifted his wand and opened his mouth to speak, Harry interrupted him, “Are you sure this is going to work?”

Blaise looked at him out of the corner of his eye. Potter didn’t look scared per se, but something was up. “I do not see why it wouldn’t Potter; we’ve done the research, and if there is an issue then it’s with our spells. The theory is sound.” 

That’s what was worrying Harry. He was the one to craft both spells in their entirety. When they began that part of the project, the process just seemed to come easily to him. Getting his magic to do what he wanted even without an incantation had always come fairly easily to him, and with Zabini’s knowledge of arithmancy and ancient runes, he’d been able to create a formula and worded incantation for Harry’s spells, so that he and others could learn to cast them as well. 

Spell fabrication, Harry found to his surprise, was a synch for him. He was really happy to find that he was good at something besides flying and defense. It was elating to realize that he wasn’t just a one trick pony, and Zabini encouraged his talent, allowing him to take complete control over that part of the project while he continued to research. Much of Harry’s work had been trial and error with much error, but never once did Zabini ridicule or belittle him as he would have expected. Not even Hermione and Ron were so forgiving. Between Hermione’s exasperated sighs and Ron’s hopeless attitude, Harry never felt like trying anything new. With this, things were different, and Harry wasn’t sure he wanted to go back to the way things used to be. The last few weeks had done good things for his self-confidence.

Harry nodded, “Right, but what if there’s not enough shadow for the pot to pass through? We never did decide if there had to be shadows on both sides of the wall. And what if-”

“Potter,” Blaise interrupted, finally turning to Harry completely and lowering his wand arm, “This is just a first try; this is where we will answer many if not all of those questions. Relax.” Blaise said calmly with a smirk. Potter was really adorable when he wasn’t scowling and being such a Gryffindor. 

Harry took a deep, shuddering breath for more than one reason. _The full impact of that voice really is sinful._ Harry thought briefly. “Of course, you’re right,” he said squaring his shoulders and turning back to the wall. 

“We have to have perfect synchronization,” Blaise began speaking, raising his wand again. “Our magic has to flow together and hit the pot at the exact same time or we can kiss this entire venture goodbye.”  
Harry smiled slightly as he thought of something, “You know we’re not supposed to learn synchronized casting until seventh year right?” 

“Well, Slytherins are ambitious,” Blaise smirked, winking charmingly at Harry, making the boy’s breath catch silently. “Now, focus Potter.”

Harry nodded; he had the more difficult spell anyway, so he definitely needed to concentrate. He had to alter the inherent properties of the pot on the other side of the stone wall while Blaise summoned it and stabilized Harry’s own incantation. During their initial experiments with Harry’s spells, they found that the charmed objects became very unstable when they changed phases, and when the spell was cancelled they were usually unrecognizable lumps of matter. Seeing as the accio spell was pretty straightforward and simple for the sixth years; they decided to add a stabilizing aspect to the charm to support Harry’s magic as it altered the pot. Furthermore, the stabilizing agent also helped Harry extend how long he could maintain the shadow form when the object was passing through an area with no other shadows present. The longest time thus far was .8 seconds. In any case, this added portion of Blaise’s accio spell, in theory, should allow the pot to regain its former shape when Harry cancelled his transmutation incantation. 

With a nod, both boys began to wave their wands in intricate patterns and murmur Latin under their breath with strong intent. Essentially, they wanted to alter the pot and make it stick to and move through shadows. It was an effect that they couldn’t have missed by any stretch of the imagination, so when the incantations were complete, and nothing happened. They were justifiably perplexed. 

“It didn’t even wiggle,” Harry whispered in bewilderment. 

Zabini scowled and made to examine the pot when their notes and books were whipped into a flurry by a gust of magic. It blew around the room with a vengeance, knocking things about, and rushing through both of the boys. It seemed to fill them up until they felt they might burst while simultaneously compressing their organs from the outside. Both were forced down to their hands and knees, panting under the pressure of the magic. It was excruciated, and the only thing keeping them from crying out in pain was the fact that their lungs were pressed flat with no oxygen available for screaming. They had no idea what the magic was doing, but it was clear that their trial run had run amok. Minutes later, they both lay flat on their stomachs facing each other with wide eyes and dilated pupils. 

“Well, that certainly wasn’t your average zephyr. Are you alright Potter?”

Harry nodded slowly and reached up to readjust his glasses before sitting up. “What the hell was that?” 

“That,” Blaise said, standing and stretching to check for any obvious damage, “was our magic telling us we made a mistake somewhere.” 

Harry rolled his eyes, “Yes, but what did it do? Was it our spell in the first place? It had no effect on the pot, and it doesn’t make sense that it would manifest such a torrent of magical power. I can honestly say that I didn’t put that much force behind my incantation.” 

Blaise nodded, “Neither did I since it was just a test run.” 

“So,” Harry led, hoping his partner had answers for him.

“Honestly, I have no idea, but our spell had to have done something to both the pot and ourselves,” Blaise said aloud. “Spells always have some effect even if it’s not the desired one; that’s why so few people can create their own spells. There’s an inherent danger in it. I imagine we will start to notice changes within ourselves soon enough, but until then we should adjust our runic formulas to address our spell issue, and we can worry about side-effects on our persons when they arise.” 

Harry groaned and collapsed down onto the couch, making Blaise smirk at his dramatic antics.  
“Then why did Flitwick give us this assignment in the first place if it’s so dangerous?” Harry grumbled.

Blaise moved to lean against the conjured stone wall, “Well, initially, he never told us to create our spell. We were supposed to alter the charm given to us. In doing so, that has led us to creating our own spell that surpasses the accio charm, but that wasn’t our original assignment.” 

Harry waved a hand in the air. “That’s just a of matter semantics. I’m sure he expected such a project to evolve in this way.”

A startled laugh erupted from Blaise before he could contain it. 

Harry snapped his head up from where it was lolling on the back of the couch to stare at Blaise. He’d never heard the boy laugh before. It was a surprisingly pleasant sound, rich and warm like his voice. When Harry’s brain caught up to his wayward thoughts he blushed brightly before turning his head away to stare at the pot that hadn’t moved an inch. He was surprised it was still whole after that magical surge.

Blaise cleared his throat a little self-consciously. He hadn’t meant to laugh out loud like that, but as the days went on he was finding it easier to relax around Potter. Surprisingly, the Gryffindor hadn’t once asked about Draco or the Dark Lord or even Slytherin quiddich plans, and Blaise was silently grateful for that. He seemed to only care about the project when they were together, and that allowed them both to relax. It helped that Potter wasn’t as incompetent as most believed him to be. He obviously had some intelligence of his own and wasn’t always riding on the skirts of that obnoxious Granger girl. Potter was funny and playful at times, and when he didn’t think Blaise was looking he had a wistful heartbreakingly sad expression on his face. He seemed to Blaise to be lonely which surprised the Slytherin, considering all of the sycophants surrounding the Golden Boy.

\---:::---


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was going to stop at chapter 2 for this week, but I'm super excited to start posting on another site, so I'll post this one and stop here this week. :) Read and Review please! Hopefully, you'll like this fic. Let me know in reviews if I should continue. :)

Chapter 3

“Blaise, are you alright?” Daphne asked, stepping into the common and walking over to the silent boy. Per usual, he was dressed immaculately, but he still looked horrid.

This early in the morning, Blaise was the only person in the large Slytherin common room. He was sitting near the empty hearth in one of two wingback chairs. Behind the chairs were several couches situated around a large green circular fur rug. The room had a surprisingly warm feeling that invited comfort and camaraderie as a common room should. Hanging on the walls were various portraits and tapestries baring the Slytherin crest. Below those were five sturdy desks scattered around the circular room for tutoring or studying. Aside from that, there were little knick knacks left behind by the younger students: books, throw pillows, and more. Despite the potential comfort the room had to give, it had no effect on the slumped sixth year. 

Looking up at his friend, Blaise shook his head in honest answer. Most believed that Slytherins hid behind blank faces all of the time, but that wasn’t true. They were human too, and around people they trusted they did allow some emotions to shine through. At school, whether they liked each member or not, there was no one they trusted more than the members of their house. That said; it wasn’t surprising to find many of the Slytherin students pouting, shouting, or even crying within the confines of their dormitory. Still, even if Blaise wanted to hide his illness, at the moment, it would have been impossible. He felt like shit, and didn’t have the energy or the will to hide it. 

The Slytherin was suffering from chills, shortness of breath, fatigue, and nausea. Earlier, when he’d awoken he’d wanted to vomit, but he categorically refused to disgrace himself to that degree. He was also sweating more than usual, especially in the cool dungeon space. Honestly, Blaise felt like he was having a heart attack, and the increasing pressure in his chest was doing nothing to alleviate his fears. 

Daphne pressed the back of her hand to his forehead and neck. “You’re burning up, Blaise! You should go see Madame Pomfrey or at least Professor Snape.” 

Blaise shook his head. He felt awful, but it wasn’t nearly as bad as his run-in with Dragon Pox last summer. He wasn’t sure if this was a side-effect of the miscast spell the previous night, but he felt he could at least make it through the day. It was Friday, so he would have the entire weekend to deal with whatever this was and check on Potter. If the little bloke felt anything like he did at the moment…Blaise winced at the pressure increased in his chest and he had to gasp a quick breath as his lungs were crushed. 

He could hardly think straight, and he had a strong desire to leave the dungeons. Perhaps, he just needed to eat a little. Some tea would definitely do some good for his roiling stomach at least. 

“If I am still unwell after breakfast,” he rasped, changing his mind after that last attack, “I will visit the infirmary. As it is, I don’t think I can make it to the third floor as of yet.” 

Daphne nodded worriedly as she sat beside him and grabbed his hand. It was really clammy. “Are you sure you shouldn’t go now?” 

Blaise shook his head again and closed his eyes. For one reason or another, he was being really stubborn about it, and Daphne was being really persistent. Blaise snorted. He truly wasn’t surprised; the girl had a split personality; he was certain. Although Daphne was loyal to her house in general, she was icy and cold to most of her housemates, but to a select few she was…overly solicitous. She was very protective of her baby sister. She doted on her, spoiling the girl rotten. Daphne gave into Astoria’s every wish. Furthermore, she loved to mother Blaise and Draco when the boys allowed it. 

“Here take this.” 

Blaise cracked his eyes open and saw a potion vial thrust just beneath his nose. He followed it up to the slender hand holding it and further up to Draco’s face. 

“It’s a pain-relieving potion. I was going to give you a pepper-up, considering how late you came back last night, but from that pained scowl on your face I think this will serve you better.” 

Blaise nodded his thanks and grabbed the potion, tilting it back into his mouth without a second thought. Seconds later he sighed in relief as the potion took the edge off the throbbing pressure just as it was beginning to burn in his chest. Once the pain subsided a little, the rest of his discomfort became manageable as well. He graced Draco with a small smile of thanks. 

“My hero,” he teased. 

Draco snorted and withheld a smirk. He tilted his head back, thrusting his nose into the air, “I just couldn’t have you following me around looking like something the troll dragged in.” 

Blaise laughed, “Of course not, let’s go. I’m hungry, and I could use some tea.” 

Daphne nodded as she moved to take her place between both boys, linking their arms together. “Why exactly, were you so late returning to the dorms last night Blaise?” 

Blaise arched an eyebrow. _Here we go_. “I was working on my charms project as I’m sure Draco told you.” 

“Yes, but you were gone for the entire night. Astoria waited up for you, and you never returned.” 

Blaise withheld an irritated sigh at the chastisement in Daphne’s voice. That little girl, cute as she was, really needed to get over this crush she had on him. It was becoming tiresome. 

“I don’t need to curb my hours because of your sister Daphne. We aren’t dating or engaged.” 

Daphne paused in the hall and looked scandalized while the portraits gave them inquisitive glances. There were no larger gossips than those animated pictures to be found in the entire castle. “Certainly not! She’s only a fourth year! What’s gotten into you? She only wanted your help with Arithmancy.” 

Blaise rolled his eyes, and Draco snickered as they continued towards the Great Hall. Not only did Daphne spoil her sister, she was also hopelessly oblivious to her sister’s romantic interests. “You do know that your sister has the highest marks in her year in Arithmancy?” Blaise began. 

“Yes, I know, and I’m so very proud of her.” 

“So,” He led.

“So what?” 

Draco sighed beside them. “Daphne, your sister doesn’t need help with Arithmancy anymore than I do with Potions. She just wants to spend time alone with Blaise. She has a schoolgirl crush on him. Surely, you’ve realized that by now.” 

The girl frowned and looked straight ahead. “Surely, you jest. My baby sister doesn’t a have crush on anyone. She would have told me,” she said in a frosty voice. 

Blaise sighed and Draco remained silent. Neither of them wanted to upset Daphne further and speaking ill about her little sister was dangerous.

“I’m sure you two are mistaken,” she nodded to herself. 

They all remained silent as they made their way up the final flight of stairs to the Great Hall. Upon entering, Blaise looked directly towards the Gryffindor table, hoping to see Potter there. He was curious to see if the boy was also suffering discomfort as well. If he weren’t, then Blaise had probably just caught a bug, but if he were…

“If you stare any longer, people will notice,” Draco mumbled, nudging his friend along. “Potter isn’t there, so let’s sit down.” 

“Right.” Blaise followed Daphne to the Slytherin table at the far end of the hall and sat across from his two friends. There was ample space on either side of the group as majority of the Slytherins had yet to make an appearance.

“What’s up with you two anyway?” Draco asked after sitting down and piling bacon, eggs, and bangers onto his plate. 

“What?” Blaise asked, sipping his pumpkin juice.

“Are you getting along with Potter?” 

Blaise eyed his friend strangely, trying to figure out where he was going with this line of conversation. “Yes, we work well together,” he admitted hesitantly.

“I see.” 

“Drake, what is it?” Blaise asked as he sat his cup down and watched his friend closely. Daphne remained silent, but she was obviously very curious as well. In any case, Blaise was tired of beating around the brush about this. While Harry was surprisingly pleasant to be around, he was just his charms partner. 

“I just want-”

Draco trailed off as he gazed across the table and watched his friend’s head snap up, staring intently over his right shoulder. Draco turned and looked behind him briefly and sighed when he saw Potter and his cronies walk into the Great Hall. For some reason, Blaise was uncharacteristically concerned with Potter. It was beginning to disturb Draco. When Blaise sighed, he looked up and studied his friend. He looked much better already. The stress lines from his earlier pain were less prominent, and he seemed more relaxed. 

“What were you saying Draco? I missed that last part.” 

“Nothing,” the blonde mumbled, turning back to his food. It wasn’t like he could share his secret with Blaise or anyone else for that matter, but he desperately wanted…well something. He didn’t know what it was, but he couldn’t help but feel like he was drowning without a lifeboat in sight. It would have been great to have his best friend’s silent strength and support, and right now he felt like Potter was once again stealing something from him, something important. _Damn him_.

\---:::---

“Harry, can’t you sit still for five minutes?” Hermione huffed. She’d been in the library for two hours with Harry and Ron, and honestly she couldn’t understand why they came anymore. Ron didn’t do anything but read Quiddich monthly or beg to see her notes, and Harry seemed to have ants in his pants today, and his fidgeting was really starting to grate on her nerves.

Harry glared at the bushy-haired girl, but didn’t say anything. It wasn’t his fault. He’d been feeling strange all day. When he woke up that morning he’d felt especially bad. His stomach was hurting terribly, and there was an awful ache spreading from his chest to the rest of his limbs. As he went through his morning ablutions the pain only increased until it was barely tolerable. Harry was contemplating going to visit Madame Pomfrey, believing that pain stemmed from the botched experiment the night before, but once he stepped into the Great Hall and began to eat a little he’d felt much better. He decided to hold off on visiting the infirmary because he really did hate going there, and throughout the day he felt better in varying degrees. He wasn’t sure what the problem was, but it seemed to be manageable at least. 

“Leave him alone, Mione. He’s not feeling well today,” Ron mumbled, flipping a page in his magazine. 

“Then he should go see Madame Pomfrey instead of sitting here,” she scolded. 

Harry huffed and grit his teeth as a particularly painful wave passed through him, “Look, don’t talk about me like I’m not here. I can make my own decisions,” he snapped, the pain and their bickering destroying his patience. 

“There’s no reason to get snippy Harry,” Hermione said, sweeping hair out her face and taking a good look at her friend. “If you are feeling unwell, then you really should go to the infirmary. You’ve been out of sorts all day today.” 

Harry sighed heavily and grabbed his bag from the floor, shoving his potions essay and textbook inside of the bag along with his invisibility cloak. He’d taken to carrying it around with him in case he had a chance to tail Malfoy, but those opportunities were rare and rarely yielded any results.

Hermione watched Harry pack and scowled when she glimpsed his textbook. “Harry, are you still using that book? I thought I told you to hand it in to Professor Dumbledore or Professor Slughorn. It’s a horrid book, and you’re probably cheat-”

“It’s not cheating Hermione,” Harry said exasperatedly, while clenching his fist to ride out the increasing pain. Ever since classes ended for the day, the pain had been increasing in steady increments. It was past the level of pain this morning, and it felt as if he needed to get out of there. He needed to go see Madame Pomfrey to get a pain-relieving potion at least. This was quickly becoming unbearable. 

“Mate, where are you going?” Ron asked, standing a little out of his seat. 

Harry ignored both of his friends as he walked quickly from the library. He needed to hurry. Once he exited the library, he couldn’t help but start to run down the halls. The infirmary wasn’t far from the library, but he felt as if he couldn’t get there fast enough. It felt as if someone had cast the accio spell on him. He couldn’t have stopped even if he wanted to. The more he ran, the more he felt that the infirmary wasn’t his true destination. He didn’t know what it was, but he desperately needed to be there to stop this pain. His eyes began to water, and he huffed in exertion. 

“Hey, watch out!” 

“We’re standing here you know!” 

Students yelled at him as he bumped into them without apologizing, and the paintings repeatedly chided him not to run in the halls, but Harry didn’t care. When he rounded the corner that would bring him to the infirmary, he nearly cried when he saw his charms partner racing toward him. 

He wanted to call out to the Slytherin, but he maintained enough restraint to stop himself, but he couldn’t slow his body as he literally snapped into Zabini. He recognized the magic working around him now as he came closer and closer to the taller boy. When he reached him, he couldn’t help himself. He threw his arms around Zabini’s thin waist and buried his face into his broad chest. Harry nearly wept when the pain instantly ceased. 

“Potter,” Blaise mumbled into his hair, his own arms tight around the slight Gryffindor.

“What the fuck was that?” Harry asked, pulling his head away even as his arms remained. For the moment neither boy could step away. The magic was holding them tightly together, and they weren’t sure if the painful throbbing would resume if they parted. Still, that didn’t stop Harry from thinking he might die of embarrassment. He had literally run into Blaise’s arms and was clinging to him like a harlot. He felt completely humiliated as he blushed crimson.

“I don’t know, but I take it you experienced the same thing I did?” Blaise asked, looking down into Harry’s watery eyes. The boy wasn’t crying, but he looked as if he might have if the pain had continued. Blaise couldn’t blame him; he thought his rib cage was going to burst from the tugging that pulled his closer and closer to what he now realized was Potter. 

“This is because of the spell isn’t it?” Harry asked quietly. 

Blaise noticed his embarrassment but didn’t comment on it. He figured the boy wouldn’t want more attention called to their strange position, so he simply nodded, “Most likely, let’s get out of here, so we can try to figure this out.” 

Harry sighed and pulled his arms away from the Slytherin tentatively. Once they were a hand’s width apart and nothing untoward occurred, no unexplainable painful tugging, they both sighed in relief. 

“At least we know we don’t have to be in physical contact for the time being,” Harry said quietly, beyond embarrassed by his earlier clinging. He took an addition self-conscious step away from Blaise.

Blaise smirked; Harry was so easy to read, especially when he blushed so prettily like that, “It’s okay Potter; I was hanging on to you too.” 

Harry blushed harder and remained silent as he followed closely behind Blaise into a nearby abandoned classroom on the third floor. The room was dark and dusty with sheets over the chairs and double desks. The boys couldn’t tell what class used to be taught in such a room, but it wasn’t large, and it had only one window on the right side behind the professor’s desk. On the back wall was a blackboard, and the two walls on the right and left side were covered by empty bookshelves.   
Moving into the room, both boys pulled out their wands. 

“Lumos,” Harry whispered before he began coughing uncontrollably. He turned and glared at his partner. 

Blaise held the dusty white sheet with a chagrined smile on his face. “I was just trying to clear a space for us,” he said, waving his hand to clear the dust particles from the air. 

Harry only shook his head as he moved around to grab some of the covered chairs lining the walls. Bringing them back, both sat down two feet apart. 

“So what do we know?” Blaise asked, angling his chair more towards Harry, so he could see him fully.

Jumping straight in, Harry leaned back and closed his eyes in thought. _Aside from the fact that weird shit like this always happens to me, I don’t know much._ “When I woke up this morning, I felt like and elephant was sitting on my chest. There was so much pressure, and it was really painful. When I left for breakfast, I thought about going to the infirmary, but I felt much better when I entered the Great Hall and began to eat.” 

Blaise nodded. He’d had much the same morning. He ran his hand through his hair distractedly. “Me too, I felt better, but not pain free. I think it’s safe to assume that close proximity to each other alleviates the pain, but it’s unclear if intermitted physical contact is necessary.” 

“Right, I think we need to establish a base line,” Harry suggested. “We need to be pain free for a couple of hours and see what triggers the pain and what stops it.” 

Blaise nodded and reached for his bag. He’d the left the dungeons so quickly and was so intent on answering what he was beginning to call ‘the summons’ that he was a little surprised to find the thing by his feet. He certainly didn’t remember grabbing it. “We may as well get some work done in the meantime. It seems like we’ll be here for a while.” 

“Yeah,” Harry agreed, moving to sit across from Blaise while pulling out his potions materials. 

Ten minutes later, Blaise couldn’t help but glance over at Harry’s work. He noticed all of the strange notations in his potions book. He couldn’t read them as they were upside down, but he was interested. Blaise knew that potions wasn’t Harry’s strongest subject, so he couldn’t imagine the Gryffindor doing extra work and making corrections in the textbook. 

“What do you have there Harry?” 

When Harry looked up and noticed Blaise staring at his book, he was immediately on edge. He got enough crap about his textbook from Hermione. He didn’t need it from Blaise too. 

“It’s just a book.” 

Blaise shook his head. “Can I see it?” 

Harry sighed heavily but pushed it over anyway. Blaise took his time flipping through it, reading each notation carefully. “Where did you get this?”

Harry swallowed. “Slughorn gave it to me. I didn’t have one because I didn’t think I’d scored high enough for NEWT Potions, so he gave me one left behind by other students.” 

Blaise nodded. “Well, whoever owned this before you was brilliant.” Blaise tried not to stare when Harry lit up. _There’s that smile again._

“I know. He called himself the Half-Blood-Prince,” Harry said excitedly, happy to see that Blaise wasn’t going to have a fit. He moved back around the table to sit beside Blaise so they both could see the book. 

Scooting in close, he flipped to the back of the book to show Blaise the signature. 

“Hmm, mysterious,” Blaise said. 

Harry laughed, “Yes, but I think it’s kind of cool.” 

“You’re such a dork,” Blaise smiled softly. 

Harry stared at him for a second before turning back the book with a bright blush and a smile. “Hermione thinks it’s cheating, but it just explains things in a simpler way that I can understand. Hermione is a real pedant if you haven’t noticed, and she doesn’t like that I cut corners,” Harry said while rolling his eyes and making air quotes. Mostly, she’s angry because my potions are as good as hers now, but I also think she’s a little worried about me.” 

Blaise arched an eyebrow, “Why would Granger be worried. It’s just a book.” 

Harry sighed, tilting his head to the side so he could see his partner better. “There are some spells in here that the Half-Blood-Prince created himself it seems, and she believes them to be dangerous. She thinks I should turn the book in because of them, but I can’t. He’s so snarky and witty with his scathing comments about the author of the book that I can’t help but laugh and enjoy reading the book just for entertainment value. It’s like a new friend. Wow, that’s stupid,” Harry mumbled self-consciously. 

Blaise gazed at him softly. There were so many sides to this Gryffindor that he kept discovering. Harry could be brash and reckless, but he was also shy at times and self-conscious, not mention brilliant with his wand. 

“It’s not stupid,” Blaise whispered, smiling at the renewed blush that flushed Harry’s cheeks and neck. 

“Um, you’re a little close, Zabini.” 

“Blaise.” 

“Huh?” Harry asked in confusion. 

“Call me Blaise. I have a feeling we’ll be around each other much more often now. You should at least use my first name.” 

Harry cleared his throat, “Right…Blaise.”

Blaise smiled brilliantly. For some reason, it felt good to take this small step closer to Harry. 

“Although you’ve done it already, it’s okay to call me Harry.” 

Blaise nodded as he continued to smile, but then he turned back to the book. “Why don’t you show me those spells?” 

“Okay,” Harry agreed easily, “They’re just here.” He flipped a few pages. The list read: Langlock, Levicorpus, Liberacorpus, Muffliato, Sectumesempra, Toenail Growth Hex. 

Blaise blinked and a strange realization came over him. He knew each of these spells. In fact, his entire house knew them. 

“Do you know what these do Harry?” 

Harry nodded. “Well, most of them anyway…I’m not sure about this one. It says it’s for enemies, so I’ve yet to try it, but the others I have. They’re right useful. I wish I could have met the Half-Blood-Prince. I think he could teach me a lot about spell fabrication.”

Blaise nodded, but didn’t comment further. He agreed that the Prince could certainly teach him more about spell construction, but Harry would probably eat those words if he knew exactly who’d created those spells. The Slytherin was sure that it was his Head of House, but he wasn’t going to ruin Harry’s fun. It wasn’t necessary at the moment, and he knew that if Harry knew that the Half-Blood-Prince was Snape it would upset him. 

“Well,” Blaise broke into the silence, leaning away from Harry and the book. “This book is really handy, but if you need help with potions or just desire some stimulating and witty conversation,” he smirked confidently, “you can ask me, and I’d be happy to oblige.” 

Thanks, Harry grinned, laughing at Zabini’s mock bow. Despite the strange circumstances that brought them to this abandoned classroom, Harry was really starting to enjoy time with Blaise. And, despite the spell on them, Harry felt inexorably pulled towards him.

\---:::---

“It’s about time,” Blaise said, looking up from his homework at his charms partner. “Want to try and test the limits of this spell?”

Harry nodded his consent and began packing away his things. Once they were done, they both began shifting the desks and chairs out of the way, so they had enough room to move around freely. “What should we do first?” Harry asked. 

“Well, we’re about two feet apart now, and I currently feel fine. How do you feel?” 

“I’m okay,” Harry answered. 

Blaise nodded; he’d figured as much. “I think the first thing we should establish is the maximum distance we can separate as well as any outside factors that may increase or decrease that distance.” 

“Right,” Harry said, pushing his glasses up on his nose. He wasn’t looking forward to purposely inducing that pain, but he didn’t see any other way. 

“Here.” 

Harry’s head whipped up quickly at the call, and his right hand jerked out to catch the tiny piece of chalk Blaise had thrown at him. 

Blaise snorted and smirked, “Your reflexes really are amazing…on and off a broom,” he laughed, winking suggestively. 

Harry withheld a blush and glared half-heartily at his partner. “Let’s just get on with this you wanker.” 

Blaise chuckled a little before sobering. “Alright, we each alternately take a step backwards and mark the distance. When there’s pain, any at all, we move forward half a step continually until it ceases. I’ll go first.” 

Harry nodded and clenched his fist prepared for a spike of pain that never came. The boys alternated stepping backwards for some time until Harry threw his hand up, “Stop!” 

Blaise grit his teeth and took half a step forward. “Yeah, I felt it too,” he muttered. They’d just answered three of their questions, so that was helpful although the pain that lanced through him was intense and made his bones ache. 

They each marked the distance, and Harry conjured a muggle tape measure. Blaise tilted his head as they measure the distance. “It is roughly twenty feet,” he said, looking at his end of the tape measure. “Give or take a centimeter or two.” 

Harry nodded and sighed, smiling a wry smile, “It could have been worse.” 

Blaise arched an eyebrow, “Well, aren’t just the optimist. We do live in separate Houses, remember? How are we supposed to remain within twenty feet of each other?” 

“Well, we could always notify the Professors, and they could set up rooms for us until we figure this out, or we could…” Harry suggested. 

“Or what?” Blaise asked. He was hesitant to immediately go running to teachers. It was embarrassing since they hadn’t even tried to fix the issue themselves first. 

Harry looked up at his handsome partner with a wide smile, “I know what you’re thinking, and I agree, but we can deal with that later. We should continue figuring this out first. Perhaps, there’s a simple solution that can be taken care of today?” 

“Perhaps,” Blaise replied with a non-committal shrug. He really doubted that, and he sensed that Harry did too, but the Gryffindor was right about figuring this out as soon as possible. Blaise figured that it would at least take the entire weekend to rectify this mistake. “So we know that twenty feet is our limit.” 

Harry nodded, frowning, “And, that we don’t necessarily need physical contact to nullify the effects of the spell.” 

Blaise took a seat on the cold stone floor and leaned back to rest on his arms. “Unless we spend too much time outside of our perimeter in which case we’ll mostly likely need to touch like earlier.” 

Harry blushed and ducked his head, still really embarrassed about that. “Right,” he cleared his throat. “Also, this time felt as intense as it did just before I found you, so I think it’s safe to say that the punishing effects of the spell are immediate and intense. They don’t increase in increments the longer we’re apart. It was like that this morning, but…” 

Blaise nodded, he’d figured that too, “This morning was the beginning, so maybe it was just establishing a baseline.”

Harry shook his head and walked over to sit beside Blaise. “I don’t understand.” 

“The spell might have been ratcheting up all day until it established our pain tolerance. How much could we take before we gave in? Once that was established, that level of pain and discomfort will await us every time we push the boundaries.”

Harry sighed and flopped onto the floor with his hands thrown over his head. “Of course, that’s just great.” 

Blaise rolled and positioned himself halfway over Harry, decreasing the distance between them by half. Their faces were about six inches apart, and both boys were acutely aware of that distance. 

“What happened to all of that optimism? It’s not that bad is it Harry, having to be close to me,” Blaise asked quietly, some of the curls on top of his head, falling into his face.

Harry turned away from him but made no move to slide away, “I guess it’s not so bad,” he mumbled, “but like you said this will be problematic.” 

Blaise leaned back with a smug smirk on his face. Harry was really cute when teased like that. “What other properties does this spell have?” Blaise asked the room. 

Now able to breathe properly again, Harry exhaled heavily, “Aside from the accio spell somehow caught between us, I have no idea,” he huffed. 

Blaise’s eyes widened like a unicorn thrown in front of a charging hippogriff. “You’re a genius Harry.” 

“What?” the boy asked, popping up from the floor. 

“This is clearly a result of our accio spell,” Blaise explained excitedly, pacing in front of the seated Gryffindor. 

“I kind of figured that,” Harry said, confusedly, scratching the back of his head, “and I thought you did too.”

“I did,” Blaise said, waving that last comment away, “but I didn’t think about the other properties of the spell we cast.” 

“Alright, so what are you thinking?”

“Stand up.”

Harry moved to stand and watched as Blaise moved around the room conjuring different sized candelabras and positioning them around the room, still careful to stay within twenty feet of Harry. 

“Alright,” Blaise said, stepping back to look at his handy work. Candles were placed at varying heights everywhere around the room, short ones tall ones and fat ones. 

“What are these for?” Harry inquired, thoroughly confused at this point. 

Blaise looked at his partner with a triumphant smile, “Our spell was to alter the properties of objects summoned by the accio spell correct?” 

Harry nodded. 

“In order to do that, we decided to have the object adopt the properties of shadows, avoiding all light and moving within the shadows of other objects until it reached the caster. If there were no shadows to maintain the object’s properties then it could move through light for .8 seconds before returning to its original shape.” 

“Yes, I remember all of that,” Harry said a little impatiently. 

“Good, well so far we’ve only experienced the compelling nature of the accio spell. What if the other aspects of our spell have affected us too?” 

Harry gaped, “You’re kidding right? There’s no way.”

“Why not?”

“Because that’s just…just…” 

Blaise smirked, “The least we can do is try it out, hence the candles. I want to throw different shadows around the room, and see how those affect us.” 

Harry sighed, “Ok, Blaise.” He wasn’t looking forward to more of that incapacitating pain, but he trusted that Blaise had at least some idea of what he was doing. He didn’t think that Blaise would go out of his way to hurt him, and Blaise would experience the pain too, so he knew that the Slytherin would try to avoid it at all costs. 

For the next hour, they lit the different candles at different angles and established that like their original spell, spending time in their partner’s shadow increased the distance threshold. They didn’t even need to be completely enveloped in the shadow just a hand or fingertip would do, but once they were completely outside of it the pain was debilitating, and they were forced back together. Now that they had a handle on it, they only needed to hold hands for a time to reset the spell, so to speak. 

Harry panted from their last and final test, “Well, that was enlightening.” 

Blaise agreed, unconsciously squeezing Harry’s hand. That hand and the boy it was attached to were becoming so very important to him because it stopped the pain. Even if he didn’t think that Harry was adorable and brilliant at times, with this spell in place, Blaise could imagine the Gryffindor becoming very precious to him very quickly in the same way that St. Mungos’ patients coveted their pain-relieving potions. As it was, Blaise was very thankful that he found Harry’s company and touch more than tolerable before these strange effects occurred. He honestly enjoyed being around Harry, and certainly didn’t mind touching him at times. 

“Do you think we could move through other shadows like our pot was supposed to?” Harry asked, bringing the Slytherin out of his reverie. 

Blaise turned to look at his partner, “Hmm, I can’t say, but I don’t think I want to experiment with that today or even tomorrow.” 

Harry laughed and rubbed his thumb across Blaise’s hand as they both continued to lie on the floor and stare at the ceiling. “I completely agree.”

Blaise was preparing to respond when his stomach growled and interrupted him. Casting tempus, he sighed forlornly, “We’ve missed dinner.” 

Harry laughed again, “You sound like a kicked puppy.”

“What? I like my food,” the Slytherin huffed. 

“Don’t worry I’ll feed you.” 

Blaise arched a skeptical eyebrow, “How?” 

Harry stood and stretched before reaching a hand out and helping his partner up. “I can get food for us from Dobby or take you to the kitchens.” 

Blaise looked completely gobsmacked, “You know where the entrance to the kitchens is?” 

Harry smirked and nodded proudly.

\---:::---

“Here, we'll have to use this," Harry said, pulling from his bag a shimmering piece of cloth.

Blaise couldn't hide his shock or surprise, "Is that what it looks like?"

Harry smirked, "If it looks like a genuine invisibility cloak, then yes it is?"

Blaise lifted his hand to run it down the silky material, "You have something amazing here."

Harry laughed lightly, "You'd be more than surprised if you knew everything I had."

Blaise arched an eyebrow and crossed his arms. 

Harry sighed and threw the cloak to Blaise who caught it deftly, but was still surprised when his entire right side disappeared. It was slightly disconcerting, and he wore a horrified expression for a split second. Thankfully, Harry was too busy mumbling to himself and pulling parchment from his bag to notice.

"In for a nickel, in for a Galleon I guess. You're lucky I have this today. Well, I guess you would have seen it in my dorm anyway," Harry said as he righted himself and moved to stand by the Slytherin. Blaise had no idea what he was talking about. 

"What are you on about?" he asked

"Look at this," Harry said unfolding the parchment and raising his wand. "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good."

Blaise watched in amazement when the parchment began to fill with ink, forming a map of what looked like Hogwarts. As far as he knew, no such thing existed. When the names and dots appeared he was hard pressed not to gasp. 

"You can't be serious," he whispered. 

Harry scooted closer to him and Blaise could feel his body heat against his side. 

"Look, here we are, and there's the kitchen. I'll show you how to get in there one day soon since we’ll probably be taking a lot of our meals there for the time being. Oh look there's Snape probably preparing to torment those kids in the corner there."

"This shows everyone in the castle anywhere?" Blaise asked looking from the map to Harry. 

Harry sighed, "Unfortunately, no. It has its limits. It will show anyone, but certain places it can't identify like the Room of requirement. It’s just there, but it doesn’t register on the map. When people go in there they just drop off the map, and the Chamber of Secrets isn’t on here either. It can only show places that the Marauders had discovered when they made the map. I think they'd found the Room of Requirement, but they couldn't really define it, and the room is always changing so the map’s magic didn't know what to do with it. "

"Who are the Marauders?"

A pained look came over Harry's face, but he answered anyway despite himself. 

"It was the name of the group my father started with his three closest friends. I used to be so proud of them; I thought they were wonderful, but I found out recently they were a bunch of bullies, tormenting the students of the school with little to no reprimand from the professors.”

Blaise maintained a stoic silence. It was clear to him that Harry was conflicted about his father's behavior. Because he didn’t know his father either, Blaise could understand how the Gryffindor might have idolized the father he’d never met only to be disappointed to find out that he wasn't as perfect as he'd originally been led to believe. 

Smartly deciding not to comment, Blaise glanced back at the map, scanning the dots for familiar names. Pansy was in the common room, Daphne in the library, and Draco appeared to be approaching the seventh floor where Harry had indicated the Room of Requirement was located. 

"Harry, I think we need to go. We should get something from the kitchens tonight or call your elf and hold up in one of our dorms until tomorrow. Then we can come up with a plan," Blaise suggested. 

Harry frowned. Just a minute ago, Blaise wasn't in a huge hurry to leave, but now he was hurriedly grabbing his bag and heading to the door. Looking back towards the map, Harry realized why. "Malfoy is on the move now," Harry grumbled. 

Blaise didn't comment. Drake was his best friend and regardless of his partnership and tentative friendship with Harry, he wasn’t about to help the Gryffindor make trouble for Draco. Therefore he held his peace. He looked up when Harry made no move to grab his own bag. Harry was standing obstinately in front of the desk with his arms crossed. 

"Are you in on it?" he asked. 

"In on what," Blaise asked with a blank face. The shy, excited Harry from earlier had disappeared, replaced by a glaring, suspicious Gryffindor Golden Boy.

"Are you working with Malfoy?"

"Harry we only have one partner project this term. You know that."

Harry glared at the Slytherin, "Sure, lie to me if you want, but I know that as soon as we leave this room if I check this map Malfoy's dot will have disappeared."

\---:::---

**That’s it for this chapter guys. I hope you all liked it. Read and Review! :)**


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys! Just in case anyone has forgotten or is confused, this chapter begins literally right after the previous chapter ended. There’s no time jump except for maybe thirty minutes to an hour…however long you think it would take Harry and Blaise to get from the abandoned classroom on the third floor to kitchens and then make their way to the Gryffindor Tower.

Chapter 4

Their trip to the tower after grabbing dinner from the elves was long and awkward, which was a feat considering that Blaise had to be silent underneath the invisibility cloak anyway. Despite that fact, the silence between the two boys was stifling. In all honesty, Blaise didn’t know what Draco was doing in the Room of Requirement. The blonde was disinclined to tell him, so he’d let it lie; Blaise really wasn’t the one to pry. He was worried about his friend, certainly, but he figured that Draco would come to him when he needed his help. He was sure that his task, whatever it was, had something to with his summer guests, but other than that he was clueless. Either way, despite their growing camaraderie and _attachment_ , Blaise wasn’t about to tell Harry even that little amount. He wouldn’t betray his best friend. No matter what anyone said of Slytherins, they were loyal to those they believed deserved it, and Blaise was fiercely loyal to Draco.

Harry for his part couldn’t help but feel a little hurt, and he couldn’t for the life of him understand why. Of course, Blaise would stand by his housemate, even if he wasn’t directly involved in whatever plot Malfoy was concocting. Furthermore, Malfoy and Blaise were close, a fact that further disconcerted the Gryffindor. Harry knew that he and his partner’s relationship was that of project partners, and nothing more, but he’d felt that they had reached a friendlier point in their relationship. Didn’t it bother Blaise that Malfoy was probably plotting his death at this very moment? Didn’t it bother him that his friend was suffering under the rule of a madman? Harry knew that Draco was suffering; it was plain as day on his face for anyone to see if they actually looked. Harry wanted to try and help Malfoy because even if they hated one another he liked to think that they hated Voldemort more. He heaved a heavy sigh as he stopped in front of the portrait of the fat lady.

“This is the Fat Lady Zabini,” Harry said quietly. “Be nice to her; she’s sensitive. The password is _blood diamonds_ , not that you’ll be entering without me, but anyway…” Harry trailed off.

“Who are you talking to child?” The Fat Lady asked him, giving Harry a curious look. She couldn’t see anyone nearby and was worried that the boy was beginning to crack under stress.

“No one Madame, could you open the portrait please?”

“Of course dear, they’re a little rowdy in the common room, so why don’t you head straight on up and get some rest tonight. You look like you could use it,” she suggested with a mildly worried glance.

Harry nodded but remained silent as the portrait swung open. He and Blaise stepped into the bright room and glanced around. Things were a little livelier tonight, but it wasn’t much crazier than usual. First years were in the corners playing exploding snap or wizarding marbles, dodging both the flaming cards and the air born marbles. The middle years were a little closer to the fire reading at the tables or gossiping amongst themselves. The elder students – the sixth and seventh years – all occupied the plush couches and armchairs closest to the fire.

This certainly wasn’t the most studious house, Blaise thought, but he’d known that already. Apart, from Hermione no one in this house was particularly high on academia. He glanced at Harry; _well, he might have been if he were encouraged properly_.

Blaise began to move and follow Harry as the Gryffindor discreetly tried to maneuver them around the outside edges of the room toward what the Slytherin figured were the Gryffindor dorms.

“Oh Harry! There you are.” A female voice called out from the area nearest the fire.

The boys turned to see Hermione waving them over and Ginny smiling widely at them. Ron nodded but soon turned back to his chess game against Dean Thomas. Blaise smirked as Thomas grimaced as his bishop took a beating from of Ron’s pawn.

Feeling an uncomfortable, nauseating tug settle in his stomach Blaise became aware of the fact that Harry was moving away from him and was alarmingly close the twenty foot marker. Harry stopped abruptly and turned to look at the supposedly empty space with a questioning expression.

“Harry, what’s the matter?” Hermione asked, closing the book on her lap. Blaise swiftly but silently made his way to Harry and pressed his hand to the Gryffindor’s lower back. Harry released a silent sigh and Blaise’s shoulders sagged in relief as the pain in their abdomens dissipated quickly.

Harry shook his head, “Nothing Hermione, I’m just feeling a little tired today.” 

“Are you feeling better though? I was sure that you’d gone to the infirmary, and Ron, Ginny, and I were going to go check on you after he finishes _that_ game,” Hermione said, glaring at the redhead. Apparently, they’d been playing chess for a while now.

“No, I ended up working on my charms project some more with Zabini-”

“Again,” Ginny pouted, standing up from her seat and sauntering over to Harry. She leaned over and wrapped her arms around his torso, looking up into his face. “You’ve been meeting with that slimely snake so much that I’ve hardly seen you at all. What do you do together so long?”

Harry withheld a tired, irritated sigh as her hands drifted lower and she plastered herself against his side, forcing Blaise to remove his hand before her arm grazed the invisibility cloak. “Ginny,” he said calmly, trying to separate himself from her cloying hands, “We work. We have a project for charms that I’ve told you about plenty of times.”

“Yes, but Ron doesn’t work on his nearly as much, and I see ‘Mione all of the time,” she simpered, poking her bottom lip out.

This time Harry couldn’t control the exasperated sigh that slipped him between his lips, “Zabini is surprisingly studious, and I find that I’m really adept at the work we’re doing, so it’s fun to work on it.”

“Fun?!” Two astounded voices rang out loudly from both Ginny and Ron. The redheads were gaping him while Hermione was nodding approvingly, “To work with a snake?”

Blaise gritted his teeth at the repeated insults to both himself and his house. If he were a rasher person, he would have revealed himself and railed against the two Weasleys, but he was nothing if not reserved and controlled. He’d have his revenge sooner or later for both the insults and the Weaslette’s ostentatious pawing at Harry. He didn’t like it, not one bit. Her suggestive looks and familiar touches were filling him with a possessive, simmering rage that he could hardly stand.

Granger’s voice interrupted his murderous musings. Clearly, he must have missed something because Harry was tense and appeared to be becoming angrier by the second. _Okay, what did I miss?_

“What do you mean by that Hermione?” Harry asked.

Hermione sighed as if really put upon, “I am only saying that it’s good to finally see you taking an interest in your studies for one. Usually by now you’d be running off to solve some mystery or other or, this year in particular, obsessing over Malfoy.”

“Oh forgive me Hermione for wanting to figure out who is trying to kill every year,” Harry said with a biting sarcasm Blaise didn’t know he was capable of. “I’m glad that no one has made an attempt on my life or that of any of my friends this year, so I can finally live the life of a regular student like the rest of you.”

Hermione scoffed completely unaware of Harry burgeoning anger or her own lack of tact, “Harry, Ron and I especially have hardly been regular students since we met you. If you’ve forgotten, I will remind you that we are always pulled into your adventures and suffer as much if not more than you do.”

Harry glared at her and Ron’s bobbing head. “That’s what you think?” He asked quietly in a dark voice that sent a static pulse sizzling down Zabini’s spine straight to his groin. He was starting to realize that Harry could be very arousing in so many different ways.

Hermione sighed heavily and opened her book preparing to finish reading and dismiss the entire conversation, “Don’t fly into a tizzy Harry. I only meant that regardless of Zabini’s house affiliation he seems to be having a good influence on you. I am eager to see what you two come up with for the project,” she finished, looking back towards her book. It was clear to Harry and Blaise that she didn’t actually care what they came up with and that whatever it was it was sure be less brilliant than her own, even if her partner was Lavender Brown.

Without another word, Harry adjusted his bag on her shoulder and turned to leave the common room, heading towards his dormitory again. Again, he was finding his friends’ presence less than desirable.

“Harry, where are you going?” Ginny asked out loud. “I thought you would spend time down here with us.”

“Ginny, I’m tired. I’ve been working all day, and I’ve been feeling a little under the weather lately. Perhaps I will be more up to it tomorrow.”

It was a lie; Harry felt fine – as long as Blaise was near – but he had no desire to be near any of them any longer, and as he was retiring so early he could easily do his homework before bed in the confines of his bed curtains.

\---:::---

Blaise glanced around Harry’s dorm room, less than impressed. It was a large room with five beds, three landscape portraits for decoration and privacy, plus five wardrobes and desks. The room held two doors. The one they’d entered from the stairs and another one just across the room. There was ample space in the center of the circular bedroom for moving about, and red and gold furnishings were everywhere. Blaise admitted that red was a gorgeous color; he even owned more than one red set of tailored formal and every day robes for the holidays spent away from Hogwarts. In moderation, it was a lovely color, but too much of it can be over-powering, especially when it’s bounced off of so many gold decorations. Yes, the Slytherin dorm was at times too muted and at its worse it could be considered dreary, but he almost preferred that to the burning of his retinas.

“You can take that off,” Harry said quietly gaining Blaise’s attention. He was about fifteen feet away from the Slytherin standing beside the bed nearest to what was probably the bathroom door. “This is my bed. Neville’s is directly across from mine. Ron’s is just there,” he pointed to the bed directly beside his own. “Seamus and Dean’s beds are beds are on the other side. We each have king sized beds,” Harry said with a light blush before he turned away.

Blaise smirked; Harry was so prone to blushing he was surprised that he’d never noticed it before their partner project was assigned.

“So,” the Gryffindor continued. “There’s plenty of room for you to share here…with me if you want.” He mumbled. “Or, you can sleep on the floor between my bed and the bathroom under the invisibility cloak. No one will see you there.”

Blaise walked forward confidently. “I’d rather not, sleep on the floor that is,” he intoned, placing his bag on Harry’s comforter and sitting down.

Harry nodded. He’d figured as much, but he didn’t want to assume that the Slytherin would want to sleep with him. He blushed again at the thought. “Right, well I’ll have Dobby get some clothes for you from your dorm, and you can shower first. That way, you’ll be done well before any of the others come up.”

“Dobby?” Blaise furrowed his brow before recognition dawned on him.

Harry nodded, not surprised that Blaise knew of the former Malfoy elf. “Yes,” Harry tugged his fringe before standing up straight trying not to look so self-conscious. “He’s sort of devoted to me,” he blushed.

Blaise smirked, “If I remember correctly, he was a little excitable.”

Harry smiled a little, “Yeah. I think he’s gotten worse.”

Blaise shook his head, “I can’t even imagine.”

“Anyway, go shower; it should be close enough from here. There are towels and washcloths in there, and my shampoo and soap are in the second stall from the door. You can use those. I’ll have your things waiting for you when you’re done.”

When Blaise returned, he walked out of the bathroom with steam billowing after him and a plush towel wrapped around his waist. Harry inhaled sharply and turned away to hide the lusty expression showing on his face. Blaise was attractive with his clothes on, no doubt, but half naked he was a true vision.

Harry gulped and pointed to the left side of his bed, “Y-you’re clothes are there, and um…I’m just gonna…” He let the sentence fade away as he grabbed his toiletries and rushed into the bathroom, avoiding eye contact with the smirking Slytherin.

Blaise shook his head; Harry’s sexual innocence was too sweet. Looking over to the door that led back to the Gryffindor common room when he heard a loud bang, Blaise hurriedly dressed and climbed into Harry’s bed, pulling the curtains closed.

Harry for his part was berating himself as he stood under the shower of soothing water. He had to stop this fawning over the sexy, dark Slytherin lying in _his_ bed right now with green silk pajamas, lying against _his_ pillows getting his warm scent all over _his_ covers, reclining lazily. Harry groaned as the cloth in his hand grazed his budding erection.

“Oh no, no, no!” He wailed. This was not happening. Draco was plotting something, probably trying to kill him, and Harry was deeply attracted to the git’s best friend. “Shit!” He said, putting away his soap and rag and grabbing his shampoo and conditioner. He had to stop thinking about Blaise and creamy skin, dark eyes, and sultry voice.

“Damn it! I’m still mad at him anyway,” he said to himself, trying to focus on something other than his strong, large hands, tall stature, and undoubtedly hard chest.

“Argh!” Harry shook his head ten minutes later, flicking the last water droplets out of his hair before he toweled off and dressed for the night. When he emerged it was with renewed irritation at Blaise and at his own rampant teenage hormones. They’d been virtually non-existent until he’d begun spending so much time with Blaise. Harry sighed heavily as he pulled his curtains open and tried not to be surprised at the vision Blaise made while snoozing on his back on top of Harry’s covers.

“Oh, you’re back,” Zabini said, sitting up on his forearms as Harry slid his way onto what Harry was coming to think of as his side of the bed. In just this short time, Harry felt as if he wasn’t the sole owner of the four-poster anymore.

“Yeah,” he responded with a nod. After that, things became very awkward as neither made any move to do or say anything. They just stared at the ceiling, each lost in their own thoughts. First and foremost was what to do about their _sticky_ situation at least that’s what Harry was pondering.

Blaise sighed. Harry seemed to be upset at him still; probably, because of their small disagreement earlier, and fighting with his friends probably only worsened his mood. Not wanting to endure the awkward silence any longer, Blaise initiated, “I don’t much like it when you call me Zabini.”

Harry turned to him and arched an eyebrow. He’d wondered if Blaise was planning on speaking to him at all that night, but not in his wildest imaginations had he thought the Slytherin would say something like that.

“What?” Harry said in confusion. “What would you prefer I call you then?”

Blaise snorted. “You were calling me Blaise earlier, and I like that better. I don’t think we need to go back to surnames just because you’re angry with me.”

Harry definitely didn’t appreciate the insinuation that he was behaving childishly and simply using the boy’s surname to provoke or punish him. “Would you like me to call you by your first in front of my friends? I can just direct all of their subsequent questions to you. That might be a good idea too; then you can see how it feels to be interrogated by Hermione Granger. I can assure you; it can be quite uncomfortable and painful.”

The Slytherin narrowed his eyes; he didn’t appreciate Harry’s cheek one bit. “Your friends weren’t in the corridor with us when you told me the password to your dorms.”

Harry looked at Blaise strangely for a second, throwing him off-guard. Surely, he was speaking in jest. “ _Blaise_ ,” harry emphasized, “There could have been any number of people in the corridor with us. Surely, you’re Slytherin enough to realize that talking to myself was strange enough, appearing to have conjured an imaginary friend with your first name would have been even stranger.”

Blaise ran a hand through his brown curls. Of course, he realized that, but, “I just don’t like being at odds with you,” he sighed, surprising both himself and Harry with that impromptu confession. He hadn’t realized that he’d been feeling that way ever sense they’d left that abandoned classroom, but now that he’d admitted it he could acknowledge the truth in those words, and Blaise never lied to himself. He cleared his throat and looked directly at Harry when he began speaking anew.  
“Like you said, we are becoming friends, I believe, and as we have to spend an indefinite amount of time together in very close proximity,” he continued, gesturing to the bed they were currently sharing, “I don’t want you to be angry with me, and I don’t want to be angry with you,” he said, holding out a hand.

Harry couldn’t help but smile. Although he was a Slytherin, Blaise was sweet in a stoic, grumbly protective bulldog sort of way. Without a thought, Harry grasped and shook Blaise’s hand, trying not to bring attention to his body’s reaction to Blaise warm hand encasing his. It was nearly twice the size of his own, and like earlier Blaise’s touch warmed his blood. With a blush, Harry retrieved his hand and turned to rummage through his book bag on the floor. He still had homework he needed to finish for the following day, and as they were stuck in bed for the next few hours he figure he may as well finish it.

Blaise seemed to take a hint from Harry and pulled out some of his homework too. They spread it all out in front of them and moved onto their stomachs. After twenty minutes of silence, Blaise spoke again, quietly in his silky voice.

“So, are you dating Miss Weasely?”

Again, Harry was startled by his question. “What?”

Blaise chuckled, “Again with that word.”

“Hey, you took me by surprise,” Harry defended, blushing again. “And, no I’m not dating her.”

Blaise frowned at the tightness in his chest that dissipated with Harry’s answer. “She’s…awfully _friendly_ with you,” he commented, fishing for more information. You didn’t touch someone like she did earlier without silently projecting ‘Hands off vultures. He’s mine.’ It was a gesture Blaise was very familiar with since Pansy – much to Draco’s displeasure – did it to his best friend often.

Harry sighed and unceremoniously dropped his head onto his Potions book. “I know,” he groaned in agony. “She’s been obsessed with me since I met her in my first year.”

“But she’s a year under us,” Blaise said confusedly.

Harry nodded, “Yes, I met the entire Weasely family when I was searching for the Hogwarts Express platform in muggle London. She’s been star struck ever since, and someone – I’m not sure who – is encouraging her infatuation. It gets worse every year. She’s convinced that we’re going to be the second coming of my parents because I look a lot like my father, and my mother was a redhead.” Harry grimaced. “I’m to become an auror just like my father, and she is to become Mrs. Potter and have lovely little children that look just like me and her. It’s ridiculous.”

Blaise nodded. It certainly sounded that way to him. He reached over and laid his heavy hand on Harry’s head. Harry turned to look at him with his cheek pressed onto the page of his text. He smiled brilliantly at Blaise for reasons he could not quite describe, but the Slytherin’s hand on his head felt really good. It was comforting and understanding.

Harry’s smile took Blaise’s breath away. It really was beautiful when it actually reached his eyes. They studied each other a long time before Harry reached out and held a hand to Blaise’s face, his fingers barely, grazing his cheek. “You’re eyes have swirls of purple in them again,” he whispered. “Uh, it’s gone now.” He said, leaning up on his forearms, trying to take a closer look.

Blaise leaned up and removed his hand, moving to a sitting position.

“Why does that happen,” Harry asked, mimicking Blaise.

Blaise smirked, “It stems from the inherited Zabini beauty.” He said laughingly.

Harry snorted, “You’re as vain as your friend.”

Blaise laughed outright this time, “Oh, you wound me good sir.” He smiled at Harry’s flippant laughter. “Draco may be my best friend, but I will admit that his vanity knows no bounds, and I take offense to the suggestion that I am as bad as he is.”

Stifling his mirth, Harry pressed, “Honestly, are your eyes changing color or something?”

Blaise shook his head, “No, they’re always like that.”

Harry glanced briefly at his eyes again, “I can’t tell.”

“Then you’re not looking hard enough.” Blaise assured him. “My eyes are a deep dark black, nearly as dark as my pupil, and when the light hits them just right if you’re looking intently enough you can see streaks of deep, dark purple in the iris. It’s nothing magical, just anatomy.”

Harry nodded. It was similar to the way his eyes had gold flecks in them if you looked closely enough in the sun. It made perfect sense to him.

“In our family,” Blaise continued in a lower tone, making heat that had nothing to do with their magical mishap begin to rise in Harry’s stomach, “My uncles and mother joke that we’ve found our destined mate when someone can see the purple in our eyes because generally people don’t gaze at our eyes long enough or intently enough to even hope to see the purple.” Harry wasn’t blind to the hidden the insinuation in Blaise’s statement.

“Despite your good looks,” Harry asked, trying for levity. It worked somewhat as Blaise smiled.

“Yes, usually they’re taking in the entire package rather than looking into our eyes for an extended period. Our family strongly believes that the eyes,” he paused for emphasis, “are the gateway to the soul. If someone can glimpse the color in our eyes they’ve glimpse a part of our soul.” His voice seemed to become deeper and heavier to Harry. “I find it fascinating that you’ve seen it twice now in such a short period, Harry.”

Harry was certain that he forgot to breathe under the scrutiny of the sexy Slytherin in his bed.

The Gryffindor jumped when the dorm room door crashed open. “Shh,” Ron admonished. “Harry is probably sleeping. He wasn’t feeling well today, you know.”

“Sorry,” Seamus’ voice, floated over to Harry in a whisper. The tension dissipated as Harry and Blaise simultaneously raised their wands and cast silencing and perimeter spells around Harry’s bed.

Blaise chuckled, “Lets finish this up and then we’ll call it a night, huh?”

“Good idea.”

\---:::---

The next morning came too soon for Harry as Ron’s boisterous voice woke him.

“Harry! Are you coming down for breakfast?”

Harry groaned and snuggled down further into his warm covers and shifting pillows.

“Maybe, he’s still feeling unwell and is sleeping in,” Neville supplied helpfully in a quieter voice.

“What?! He’s going to miss a meal again?” Ron asked.

Harry rolled his eyes behind his eyelids. Ron could never imagine willingly missing a meal, and it shocked him every time anyone else did.

“Some people don’t like to eat when they’re sick Ron,” Neville said. “Come on. Harry will eat when he’s ready. It’s Saturday, so Harry can sleep in if he wants.”

“I don’t know,” Ron said, his voice getting smaller as he moved towards the door. “He even put up perimeter spells. What if something is really wrong with him?”

“Ron, he probably just knew that you would wake him up whether he wanted to get up or not and took precautions,” Harry heard Neville say just before the door closed with a quiet snick.

Harry nodded. That’s exactly what he was trying to do, but it had little to do with sleeping and more to do with the boy sharing his bed. Speaking of…

“Harry, how long are you going to lie on me? I need to use the facilities,” Blaise said in a sleep roughened voice.

Harry jerked up and fully awake instantly, staring in horror at the empty place on Blaise’s chest where he’d just been laying contentedly. He’d been so comfortable that he didn’t notice the rising chest or the steady beating of Blaise’s heart under his ear.

“Oh my God,” he whispered, “I’m so sorry,” he apologized turning bright red.

Blaise chuckled, “It’s really no problem Harry, but if the coast is clear then, I’d like to use the restroom.”

“Oh of course,” Harry said, snatching up his wand and slashing it violently to remove the silencing and perimeter spells. 

Blaise just smirked again at Harry’s cute behavior and walked into the bathroom. Truthfully, he’d been awake for a couple of hours, but he hadn’t the slightest inclination to move Harry when he’d found the smaller boy snuggled up to him. Somehow, he’d cuddled up to him in the night, and Blaise thought it was sweet. Harry fit so easily in his arms, and he didn’t want to let him go. Blaise was slightly worried about what he was really beginning to realize was a growing infatuation with the Boy-Who-Lived. Harry, Blaise realized after getting to know him, was nothing short of amazing. He was a natural at spell theory and construction without any tutoring, and he was sweet and adorable sometimes and contrarily feisty and protective at other times. In short, he was so multi-faceted he alternately baffled and fascinated Blaise.

When the Slytherin returned from the bathroom, he arrived to find Harry sitting on the edge of his bed with his trunk open, staring at a small mirror. He looked completely shattered. Blaise had never thought to see Harry appear so helpless and despondent. He couldn’t stop himself from using his long stride to rush to Harry side, kneeling in front of him and pressing his hands to Harry’s knees.

“What’s wrong Harry? Harry,” Blaise began again when the boy didn’t respond. “Harry, what is this?” Blaise asked, looking at the little mirror in Harry’s hand.

“It’s a two-way mirror,” Harry whispered, running his fingers over it lovingly.

“Why has it upset you? It is broken?” Blaise couldn’t understand Harry’s misery over a tiny two-way mirror.

Harry gulped and looked up tears welling up in his eyes.

Blaise inhaled sharply. What had happened in the few minutes he’d been away to make his Gryffindor cry?

“Harry,” He said almost desperately. “Let me help you. Tell me what’s wrong.”

Harry closed his eyes and dropped his head, leaning forward to drop his head on Blaise’s shoulder. If the Slytherin hadn’t been there, Blaise was sure that Harry would have collapsed into himself and probably never come out again.

“You know what happened in the Department of Mysteries at the end of last term?” Harry asked.

Blaise shook his head. “I heard a few minor details, but I don’t know much. Draco only said that somehow your trip there is the reason his father ended up in Azkaban.”

Harry didn’t care about Draco’s baseless accusations at the moment. He just began to speak, starting from the very beginning with his nightmares and visions, his occlumency sessions with Snape, ending with the false vision of Sirius’ capture and the trip to the Department of Mysteries. He told him all of his secret feelings about every event: his resentment for Snape and his teaching methods, the pain he felt with every vision, the misery and guilt he felt when he watched helplessly as those people suffered and died ignobly, his fear for Sirius and his friends’ lives when he’d entered the ministry, and the debilitating guilt and misery at Sirius’ death.

He excluded the prophecy for now. He didn’t tell him because he didn’t want Blaise running for the hills as soon as they reversed the effects of this spell. It wasn't because it was a huge secret that Harry had to kill Voldemort. In all honestly, he’d seen that one coming. He was angry with Dumbledore for hiding from him something so trivial in the grand scheme of things. The entirety of Wizarding Britain expected him to kill Voldemort or die trying. As daunting a task as that was, it wasn’t news to Harry. Dumbledore somehow thought hiding the prophecy from him was worth the ultimate cost of losing Sirius, and Harry just couldn’t understand that. The damn thing wasn’t worth protecting. It didn’t give anyone an edge in the war. Harry would have let Voldemort have the damn thing if he’d have known what it said. Voldemort wanted to kill him anyway; Harry highly doubted that hearing that thrice-damned message would have made him want to kill him any more or less. It was all so painfully stupid, and now Sirius was gone because of Dumbledore’s bad judgment and Harry’s impatience. If he’d have opened this package and read the note, he could have spoken to Sirius and known he was alright…now…now…

“Harry,” Blaise called, releasing the Gryffindor from his consuming thoughts. 

Harry pulled his head back so that he could look at the Italian boy who was quickly becoming his closest confidant. “How does this work?”

“What?” Harry sniffed.

Blaise allowed a small smile to flit across his face at Harry’s typical response. “The mirror, how do you activate it?”

Harry grabbed the paper beside his leg and handed it to Blaise. “It says to just call his name to activate it.”

The Slytherin unfolded the parchment and read it quickly. 

_“This is a two-way mirror, I've got the other one of the pair. If you need to speak to me, just say my name into it; you'll appear in my mirror and I'll be able to talk in yours. James and I used to use them when we were in separate detentions.”_

“Have you tried it?”

Harry whipped his head up, and stared at Blaise in abject horror. “Are you crazy?” The, ‘I’ll die if I try and it doesn’t work,’ was left unsaid between them.

Blaise grabbed the mirror and flipped it over several times between his fingers. “I’ve heard of magic doing wonderful, terrible, and unbelievable things Harry, but I’ve yet to encounter an object that kills instantly without discretion.”

“But, but he wasn’t behind the veil,” Harry began, not daring to hope.

Blaise stood up and stretched his legs in front of Harry, passing the mirror back to its owner. “Harry, it could just as easily be a doorway to another realm or place on Earth or beneath it or to the Sun. I don’t know, but I doubt that passing through the veil killed him. It may very well be that he died whenever he encountered the environment it spat him out into,” he felt compelled to say, “but he may not have. Furthermore, I’ve never heard of anything that can send people to the underworld or afterlife, Harry. People don’t just disappear. And, if this veil does send people to Hell or wherever, I would think that the creators would have created a way for them to come back. Who in their right mind would create a portal to hell without a way back?”

“So, you think…”

“I think that it’s worth a try to see if he answers. If he’s alive and no one is looking for him…”  
Harry bit his lip. He just didn’t know. “What if he didn’t have it with him? This will be pointless.”

Blaise sighed, Harry had a point. “If there was a way to check the Black tapestry, then we would know for sure if he still lived.”

“Tapestry,” Harry inquired.

Blaise nodded, “Every old family has a family tapestry that delineates their family line, magically adding new members as they are born or marry into the family. I am sure that the Black family had one because they held strongly to the old traditions.”

Harry perked up for a second, but then deflated again. “I think his mother blasted his name from that if I remember correctly.”

Blaise shook his head, “That would have been the same as disowning him; he couldn’t have become Lord Black in that case, and he was the head of his house when he disappeared, correct?”

“Yes.”

“Then he’ll be on it. We just need to look at it, and then we’ll know for sure what to do.”

Harry grinned, “We can ask Kreacher,” Harry exclaimed.

Blaise frowned, “Kreacher?”

“He was Sirius’ house elf before. He works for me now.”

Blaise arched his eyebrow and harrumphed, “That’s sufficiently dehumanizing enough; sounds like something the Blacks would name their house elf,” he mumbled. “Wait, you have more than one house-elf beholden to you?” House elves were loyal creatures with powerful magic that didn’t trust or even respect easily. To have two under your command as a student was impressive.

“Sort of, but Kreacher would rather work for anyone besides than me, except maybe a muggleborn,” he mumbled. “I just inherited him from Sirius when he made me his legal heir. Kreacher’s so repugnant and mean that I had him work for Hogwarts because I couldn’t stand to see him. He’s positively vile,” Harry explained.

 _Well_ , Blaise thought, there goes the idea that Harry isn’t wealthy. _He currently holds both the Potter legacy and the Black as well_. He shook his head; he shouldn’t have expected anything less.

“KREACHER!” Harry called without delay. He needed to know once and for all.

“Nasty filth, blood-traitor, half-blood master be calling me?” Kreacher wheezed as he popped into the room, looking around in obvious disdain.

“Kreacher I want you to go back to Grimmauld Place-”

“Horrible filthy master be letting Kreacher go home?!”

“Listen Kreacher,” Harry admonished. “I want you to go to Grimmauld Place and get the Black family tapestry. I need to see it. It’s very important; do you understand? You are to go get it and bring it back to me. If you try to flee or deceive me as you did before, nothing not even your dead Mistress’ soul can save you from my wrath. You will experience pain like never before, and when I finally kill you, you won’t have your head displayed among the others. I’ll cook you and feed you to that rat Pettigrew. Do you understand?”

Kreacher squeaked and blubbered all over the floor alternately begging and cursing Harry.

“KREACHER!” Harry called again.

“I’s can’t. The tapestry is being at Black Manor, not home.”

“It’s been moved, since when?” Harry asked.

“Dumbly be telling Kreacher it move and new half-blood, filthy master did not order Kreacher not to move it, so Kreacher takes it to Slop at Black Manor,” Kreacher wheezed.

“Then get it from there,” Harry commanded firmly, quickly losing his patience with the damn elf. And, what was Dumbledore doing removing things from his home? “And, unless it is specifically Hogwarts business do not follow orders from anyone but myself. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” Kreacher hissed before popping out of the room.

“Impressive threatening Harry,” Blaise smirked. “I didn’t know you were so imaginative.”

Harry laughed, “Neither did I. I think it’s from all of the time I’ve spent around slimy snakes recently.”

Blaise smiled wickedly, preparing to attack the Gryffindor when Kreacher returned with a massive tapestry. Unrolled, it took up all of the space in the middle of the dorm room. Blaise renewed the privacy spells on the room before he turned to look the ancient artifact over with Harry.

“There he is!” Harry exclaimed from his spot on his knees at the bottom of the tapestry. “This means he’s alive, right? There’s no line through it!”

“Yes, try the mirror Harry,” Blaise prompted as Harry’s eyes began to swim with unshed tears as he stared at Sirius Orion Black’s name and ran his finger over the magical stitching.

Harry sat back and walked over to the bed to reclaim his previous seat with mirror.

“SIRIUS BLACK,” he intoned.

The surface of the mirror wavered and rippled repeatedly and Harry was beginning to lose hope before Sirius’ face appeared in front of him, grinning and wide-eyed.

“S-Siri,” Harry choked.

“Hey Prongslet,” Sirius said quietly. “I forgot I had this with me, but I’m damn glad now.”

The tears welling in Harry’s eyes spilled over without his consent as he spoke in a hoarse broken voice. “I’ve missed you so much; I thought I would never see you again after Bella cursed you. I’m so sorry, so sorry,” Harry cried.

“You know me better than that,” his Godfather said with a wolfish grin. “Don’t cry Harry,” Sirius said as the tears continued to pour down Harry’s face. “You’re breaking my heart kiddo.”

“They-they told me you were dead Pads.”

“It’s okay Harry. I’m not dead although I’m not sure if I’m actually alive here either. It’s hard to tell,” he chuckled. “I’m sorry Prongslet, but I think I have to go now,” Sirius said abruptly.

“What? Why?” Harry shrieked, clenching the mirror tighter. “You-you’re not about to…”

“No Harry,” Sirius rushed to reassure his godson. “I’m not about to pass on or anything like that. It’s just that there’s no residual magic in this place for the mirror to draw from to fuel the connection, so I have to use my own magic, and it’s difficult in this place. It’s like the atmosphere absorbs any excess magic, so I’m running out of energy rapidly.”

Harry nodded in relief. “You’ll be better soon though?” he asked in voice so heartbreakingly childlike that both Blaise and Sirius ached to embrace him.

“Of course,” Sirius said with a reassuring smile. “I just need time to recharge, and I’ll be golden,” he said brightly.

“Okay,” Harry said quietly. “I’m so happy to see you,” he whispered, tears pooling in his eyes once again.

“Me too Harry, I’ll talk to you soon, okay?”

Harry nodded, “I’ll try to figure out a way to get you out of there I swear,” Harry said determinedly.

“I know you will; you’re a brilliant, determined kid Harry. If anyone can figure it out, it’s you. If you need help though,” Sirius couldn’t help but add, “Talk to Sniv-Severus. I’ve never met anyone besides your mother who knew more about magical theory. He can be a lot of help if he wants to be.”

Harry nodded again. He seemed to be doing that a lot lately as he stared at his godfather in awe. He could hardly believe that he was speaking to him once again and that it wasn’t dream.

“See you later Harry. Don’t forget about me.”

“Never Siri, see you.”

When the mirror once again showed Harry’s reflection, Harry looked up at Blaise who hadn’t moved from his spot directly in front of the Gryffindor. In seconds, his arms were full of one crying, garrulous Harry Potter. “You saw him too right? You could hear him? He was really there?”

“Yes, Harry,” Blaise said quietly, tightening his arms around the boy. Harry was alternately happy and sad, and he didn’t know which emotion to express, so he cried and laughed and squeezed Blaise tighter and tighter until he was emotionally exhausted. Blaise moved them to sit on the bed.

“Thank you so much,” Harry said as he slumped against Blaise’s side, his arms still loosely wrapped around the Slytherin’s waist.

“For what,” he asked, his hands running soothingly up and down Harry’s sides.

“If it weren’t for you, I don’t think I ever would have looked at that mirror again after today. It nearly killed me before you came out here to realize that I’d had a way to contact Sirius all along and that I could have avoided the entire Department of Mysteries escapade that got Sirius thrown into the veil. They all told me he was dead, but he’s not, and I never would have known if it weren’t for you.”

Blaise didn’t feel as if he’d done much, but he’d made Harry happy, so he certainly wasn’t complaining. Sirius was Harry’s last living magical relative, and Blaise recognized how much it had to mean to Harry to realize that he wasn’t dead at all. “I take it this is our new term project, along with fixing our accio incantations and getting us unstuck… for lack of a more appropriate word.”

Harry nodded silently and closed his eyes. He couldn’t be more content right if he were a puppy on his owners lap. He just felt like everything was right with the world even though he knew logically that much of it was going to Hell. Still, in that moment, reliving his conversation with Sirius and sitting with Blaise, Harry was able to block all of it out: Voldemort, Malfoy, the war, his strained relationship with his friends…all of it just ceased for the moment.

Ten minutes later Blaise brought him back from oblivion, “Harry?”

“Hmm?”

“What’s the plan for today? I need to show my face around the Slytherin common rooms, and we need to eat and begin the research to solve our predicament as well your godfather’s.”

“Right,” Harry said, sitting up reluctantly. “I’ll leave a note for Hermione and Ron stating that I was feeling better and going to work on the project with you. It will upset them, especially Ginny, but at least they won’t come looking for me. Then we can go to your dorm and spend time in there. I’ll wear my cloak and read or do homework or something and try to be as unobtrusive as possible. Later on, we can go somewhere to work on our new projects,” he smirked.

“Alright, that plan will work for today. I think we should take turns sleeping in each other’s dorm if this progresses past the weekend, and then we’ll just have to alternate who is seen when. Luckily, the Gryffindors and Slytherins share all classes, so that won’t be an issue,” Blaise added going to get clothes for the day from the pile Dobby had brought up last night.

“Agreed.”

\---:::---

Harry followed Blaise down the stairs into the bowels of Hogwarts. The scenery was somewhat familiar due to Harry’s innumerous trips down to the dungeons for potions and Snape’s ever dreaded detentions. What wasn’t quite so memorable, but was now sure to leave a lasting impression on Harry’s brain, was the broad expanse of Blaise’s back as he stalked in front of him, stately, poised, and completely confident. The boy walked into the Slytherin common room with and air of frosty detachment, like he owned the place and the people in it, daring them to comment on his absence the previous night. Taking the hint, no one asked or even dared to speak to him besides a friendly – well friendly for a Slytherin – greeting. Harry couldn’t help but envy the Slytherins’ tact. As curious as he assumed them to be, none of them felt the need to bombard Blaise in the middle of the room and question him relentlessly on what could have been embarrassing or personal information that didn’t need to be discussed in the presence of thirty other students. If only Harry were so lucky…

Blaise walked over to a secluded corner of the common room where Harry noticed Malfoy sitting with Daphne Greengrass and her little sister perhaps. The two girls looked so similar that Harry was sure that the smaller girl must have been Astoria Greengrass.

“Hm, you were even able to procure a fresh set of clothes,” Draco said with a negligent glance over the large tome in his hand.

Daphne quirked an eyebrow as well as she continued to stroke her little sister’s golden hair. “That is impressive Blaise. You’ll have to teach me that little trick dear,” she said with an amused smile. 

Her sister giggled and shifted in her position laying on her sister’s lap to gaze at Blaise. _He was so very handsome and a pureblood and wealthy. He would make a worthy husband_ , she thought as she stared at the Italian boy two years older than herself. She knew that she was beautiful and came from a good enough family. Perhaps, she should try harder to woo him so that he might court her. Of course, she’d never behave like that vapid Parkinson girl. Thank goodness she wasn’t here at the moment; her behavior was deplorable, and Astoria certainly wasn’t going to mimic that thing.

Blaise knew that none of them would have been half so amused if they knew where and who he’d been with last night, but for the time being he had no intention of informing them, so he just decided to endure their teasing. He drew his wand and summoned a wing back for himself with its accompanying footstool. He sat and reclined, kicking his feet up gracefully, leaving enough room on the stool for Harry to perch on it. Hopefully, it was dim enough to disguise the depression of the cushion.

“Oh,” Draco said, setting aside his book and forgoing any pretense of reading, “Someone is especially relaxed today. Would you like to tell us where you spent the night last night, so the rest of us can consider visiting? It must have been lovely.”

Blaise smiled and Harry nearly choked. He couldn’t imagine any of them visiting his bed…ever. Well, Blaise was welcome anytime, but…Harry blushed beneath his invisibility cloak, thankful that it hid his embarrassment from his surrounding schoolmates.

“I did have a rather lovely night,” Blaise said smoothly with a sly smirk on his lips.

Draco arched an eyebrow, clearly saying: Well, where the hell were you?

Blaise chuckled, “A gentleman never kisses and tells.”

Draco huffed quietly and sat back on the couch, relaxing. He hadn’t really expected more, but he’d hoped nonetheless. He could have used a distraction from his current employment. Trying to the get the mixture perfect was really frustrating, and furthermore he had no idea how he was going to administer it after it was complete. It was completely nerve wracking. Honestly, just what did they expect him to do? He was only a sixth year student. _Damn it all!_

“Come dear, I promised to help you with your charms assignment,” Daphne said quietly to her little sister, urging her to sit up. “There’s no time like the present. I have to meet up with that horrid Patil girl from Gryffindor afterwards, and I’m sure I’ll be sufficiently wrung out after that, so I won’t want to even think about work later.”

“Okay, Daph,” Astoria said. “I’ll see you guys some other time.”

Daphne gave both of the boys a look that said they needed to talk. Things were a little weird this year, and she certainly didn’t have all of the details, but she was worried. It looked to her as if they were growing apart, and she wouldn’t be able to handle having her two best friends behave coldly towards each other. It would be awkward and strange to say the least. She glared at them both, _Work it out!_

Draco rolled his eyes and Blaise just winked at her. She turned away from them was a huff of exasperation, and steered her sister towards the girls’ dormitories.

“How’s your project coming along,” Blaise asked shifting on the stool from a nudge from Harry. His back was starting to hurt and he wanted some support. Blaise couldn’t help but smile as Harry silently and slowly inched backwards until he was able to easily lie on Blaise’s chest unobtrusively. Blaise almost couldn’t hide his mirth at the imagined picture of Draco’s face if he were to see Harry lying upon him so casually. He could also imagine Harry’s pretty blush as he boldly positioned himself over Blaise’s body. Blaise kept his hands carefully on the armrest to avoid unconsciously touching Harry and having his hand float strangely in the air.

“It’s actually not too terrible. I feared the worst when I was paired with Longbottom, but aside from potions he’s a decent wizard,” Draco drawled. Harry was surprised by that statement; Malfoy hadn’t even spat Neville’s name with disdain. He seemed perfectly indifferent. “He’s a more composed lion; thank the heavens, so we work efficiently together.”

Blaise nodded.

“How about yourself?”

Blaise tilted his head and considered how honest to be with his best friend. He wasn't going to lie to Draco, but he didn’t want to upset him either. Considering though, how he fond he was becoming of the little Gryffindor on top of him, he decided to be open with Draco so that his friend would be prepared. “Potter’s fairly brilliant. I never noticed because the Granger chit was always butting in before Potter can speak, but Harry’s been amazing on this project. He’s highly intuitive when it comes to magic,” Blaise commented in an even tone.

Draco couldn’t help but glare at Blaise. “I see.”

Harry, for his part, was struggling to breathe. Hearing Blaise compliment him in such a way was astounding, and he didn’t know how to respond. Luckily, he didn’t have to, so he just laid there and tried not to be too aware of the heated body beneath him. He wasn’t sure what possessed him lay down on Blaise; he could have just as easily slid to the floor and leaned against the chair to relieve his back, but this move was more natural and decidedly more pleasurable, to be sure. The flips his stomach was doing was telling enough.

“You aren’t jealous are you?” Blaise asked, teasingly, hoping to stave off a fight.

Draco’s eyes narrowed further, “Of course not, it’s only been a few weeks in the Savior’s presence and you’ve already fallen into his grasp. What’s there to be upset about? I figured you’d be lost sooner than this. I’m actually impressed with you.”

Blaise sighed. “Look Draco, what’s wrong?”

“What’s wrong?” Draco hissed. “You-”

Blaise cut his off, “I know there’s something bothering you aside from Harry-”

“Harry,” Draco choked. “You’re on a first name basis?”

Blaise soldiered on like he didn’t hear him, “You’re not sleeping, using heavy glamours and drinking way too much pepper-up.”

Draco blanched before cutting back, “Like you would know, you’re never around. You didn’t even sleep here last night. What would you know about anything?”

“Draco,” Blaise said quietly in a commanding voice that slithered down Harry’s spine straight to his groin. “Be honest with me now. I want to help you. Don’t deflect.”

Draco remained silent, and Harry began to think that he wouldn’t answer Blaise at all. 

Draco continued to glare at his friend before he sighed and collapsed onto the couch, resting his head and arms along the back of the suede black divan. “Look, there are just some things that I can’t tell you. I really want to, but,” the blonde exhaled a heavy, pained breath, “I really can’t.” 

Blaise narrowed his eyes and contemplated how much to say in front of Harry, “It has something to do with your summer guests?” 

Draco closed his eyes and nodded; the exhaustion and strain was apparent on his face. 

“Draco,” Blaise called, shifting a little to nudge his friend with his foot. “I am here to help you whenever you need it.” The Italian felt Harry stiffen on his chest, and Blaise felt like he was stuck between a rock and a hard place, but he soldiered on. In this moment, he hoped to make both of them understand. “My family is neutral, and I daresay we’ll stay that way, but I will not let you fall by the wayside. I can see how this tearing you up, whatever it is. If you need my help, you need only ask for it. I can give you sanctuary if you want.” 

Draco smiled at the ceiling before gazing at Blaise. “You’re such a nice guy Blaise. I think you should have been a Hufflepuff.” 

Blaise scoffed and turned his head, “Whatever.” 

“I won’t drag your family into this Blaise if I could avoid it, so don’t worry. This isn’t anything I can’t handle,” he lied. _‘Moreover, if I seek sanctuary alone I don’t know what _he’ll_ do to my parents.'_

Blaise nodded his understanding, but still hoped to convince his friend that he was a viable option should he want to get out. “I understand, but our doors will remain open to all of you no matter what.”

“I understand,” and really he did, but he was hesitant. These were his parents they were talking about. He had to be sure of every little detail before he made any hasty decisions. Running to Blaise would make the Zabinis number one targets for the dark side, and without help from Potter or Dumbledore – loathe as he was to admit it – they wouldn’t stand a chance against the Dark Lord. Draco wasn’t sure if he was willing to put his family or Blaise’s at risk without some insurance.

\---:::---

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know the mirror thing is a little cliché and used in a lot of fics, but I love Sirius, and he is going to be a major player in this fic from this point forward. I really like the mirror scenes in other fics, so I’d adapted my own to fit in my story. Sorry, if it bugged some of you. It seems much more plausible to me than just ignoring his death/loss in the Department of Mysteries entirely. Well, that’s it for this chapter. I really hope you enjoyed it. Please read and review!!! Let me know what you think. :D


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just want to take a second to say thanks to everyone who has left kudos or comments especially Bella, lunatik, blue and Korva. They make me want to keep posting here, so keep em coming guys, especially the comments/reviews. *shameless trolling for comments here* hehe! Let me know what you're thinking at the end of the chapters I really appreciate the feedback. I respond to each and every comment I receive, so thanks again! Now, here's the new chapter. I hope you all like it. Just a reminder, I'll be posting twice a week (Mondays and Fridays) until I catch up with my prewritten chapters. I have 13 chapters written thus far. Then I'll only post once every 2 weeks. That's all. I hope guys like this chapter, and please read and review! :)

**A/N: I just want to say don’t worry about Harry and Blaise jumping straight into the sack in the next couple of chapters just because they’re getting a little touchy and sweet. If that’s what you’re thinking, they’ve still got a little ways to go. They’re just getting really comfortable touching and being around each other. It’s kind of an indirect side effect of the spell, but Blaise is just sweet on Harry because I like him that way haha. :) Read and Review please!**

**Chapter 5**

Saturday night, looking out into the night sky, Professor Dumbledore clasped his hands behind his back as he stood before his office window. He glanced down at Hogwart’s grounds and smiled grimly at the silent castle towers below his own. As Headmaster, the tower his office and quarters were situated in was the tallest, and if one were to stand in the rafters, they would notice that the tower possessed a panoramic view of the entire castle and grounds. The majesty of Hogwarts never ceased to amaze Dumbledore. From the front gates to the forest, from the dungeons to the owlery, it was a brilliant place. He was truly going to miss it.

“Albus,” a rich tenor called behind him, interrupting his solemn moment.

Dumbledore turned and smiled at his Potion’s Master. “Yes, Severus?”

“Here is this week’s potion,” he handed a vial of viscous crimson liquid to Dumbledore when the wizard moved to retrieve it. “It’s a stronger dose since the curse is spreading far faster than I had first anticipated. I must also have a look at your hand again to apply the salve,” he said, turning to rummage through his potions kit. “I had originally hoped to tether the curse to your finger alone, but it has engulfed the entirety of your hand.”

Weeks ago, Dumbledore had returned to the castle with a ghastly curse on him that would have extinguished his life within days if it weren’t for the prowess of Madame Pomfrey and Severus Snape’s skill as a potion’s master and his experience with the dark arts. The Headmaster had been exceedingly tightlipped about the origins of the curse, but Severus would have had to have been a complete simpleton to miss the dark aura emanating from the curse mark. 

“I thank you Severus,” Dumbledore smiled.

Severus merely sneered, “If you would have sought me out sooner, then perhaps I could have done more.” Dumbledore had suffered for days alone before he’d had the wherewithal to summon his healer and potion’s master. Severus examined Dumbledore’s decaying hand and ground his teeth. “This is not improving, and I scarcely doubt that it will. Without the counter curse-”

“I understand very well and appreciate your help my boy.” Dumbledore said with a sigh, removing his hand when Severus completed the application. He walked to his chair behind his large, ornate wooden desk. “This predicament will not change our circumstances-”

“How has it not altered our circumstances? You are dying!” The potions master hissed, instantly irate. Severus never boasted that he was a patient or tolerant man.

The Headmaster sighed, “I am beginning to understand that Severus, and I am forming contingency plans for that outcome. Do not worry. I must merely expedite some of my plans. All will be well.”

“What plans?” Severus asked hesitantly. He hated how the old man made plans for everyone without their knowledge or permission. No doubt these plans of his involved the resident Golden Boy and some harebrained scheme; that would inevitably give Severus migraines and probably nightmares for months to come. Severus could never understand Dumbledore’s willingness to place the weight of the wizarding world on such slight shoulders. Despite his dislike for all things Potter, even he was not so cruel as to encourage young Potter to engage Voldemort on a regular basis. It was absolutely absurd.

“Thank you for your time Severus. I know you must prepare for your lectures on Monday morning, so I will not hold you any longer,” Dumbledore said with a benign smile.

Severus snorted and spun on his heels, whipping his robes dramatically. 

When the door shut firmly, Dumbledore slumped in his chair. He was so very tired, yet he had so much to accomplish this night and in the near future. With a sigh, he pushed himself up and reached for the quill and parchment he kept in his desk drawer to pen a note to young Harry. He decided to wait until Monday to have it delivered to the boy. _I will allow him the pleasure of this last weekend._

\---:::---

“Get up Blaise. It’s after nine, and I know you said you needed to meet the Golden Boy after breakfast which will be over in an hour, so if you don’t move your arse, you’ll be enduring the twat on an empty stomach,” Draco sneered.

“Mmm, is he always so snippy in the mornings,” Harry mumbled, rolling over and throwing an arm over his eyes, not that that much light was shining through the emerald bed curtains. 

Blaise chuckled, “This is a relatively good morning.” He pushed up onto his forearm and watched Harry squirm in the sheets. After falling asleep, he’d been plastered to his side again last night; Blaise could tell that Harry was diligently ignoring that fact. The Slytherin’s smirk expanded. _It must be my animal magnetism_.

Harry groaned, “You must be joking.” 

Blaise just smirked and reached for his wand under his pillow, disabling the silencing and perimeter charms around his bed. “I’m coming you prat,” he answered his best friend. “Save me a seat near the window in the Great Hall, will you?” 

“Alright,” Draco mumbled, “but hurry up. I have to meet my partner afterwards too, and I’d like to spend as little of my Sunday with Gryffindors as possible.” 

Seconds later the door opened and shut. “Honestly, Neville really isn’t that bad,” Harry grumbled, moving to his hands and knees to peek out of Blaise’s curtains and make sure the coast was clear. 

Blaise smirked at Harry’s perky bottom, before averting his eyes, and answered, “He knows that.”

Harry stepped out of the safety of Blaise’s bed before turning to quirk an eyebrow in question, but Blaise didn’t deign to answer. Shrugging, Harry went to the adjoined bathroom to attend to his morning ablutions. Blaise just stood and went over to his trunk. “So, what’s the plan for today,” Harry called from the bathroom. 

Blaise stood up with his uniform and robes; he glanced around at the empty room before retrieving his wand and casting a silencing charm at the entrance. “I don’t know,” he answered. “Starting with breakfast is probably the best decision for the moment.” 

“No, after that…furthermore, how the hell are we going to pull off breakfast? I’m already skating on thin ice with my housemates. There’s no way I can show up with you in the Great Hall when I’ve hardly seen them all weekend, and I doubt food disappearing underneath my cloak will go over well with your dorm mates.” 

Blaise stilled, “Yes, this will prove to be a little tricky, but I’ll just have to figure something out.” 

“Oh joy,” Harry droned. 

Blaise just shrugged even though he knew Harry couldn’t see him. They didn’t have any better ideas at the moment.

\---:::---

The rest of Sunday morning and afternoon passed by fairly smoothly for both of the boys. Harry spent much of his time thinking about his Godfather and wondering why Dumbledore felt the need to remove the Black tapestry from Grimmauld Place. After a time, Blaise managed to wrest the Gryffindor’s attention away from his inner musing, encouraging him to finish their defense essays.

They both wanted to spend time on their extracurricular projects, but they couldn’t let their grades slip in the process, especially in Professor Snape’s class. His transfer from potions to defense against the dark arts did nothing to improve his sour moods or his tolerance for Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs, despite the rumors that he’d coveted the position for many years. 

Currently, afternoon had slipped into evening, and Harry and Blaise were hidden in a quiet, secluded corner of the library. They were thankful for the peace and quiet because silence in the library was rare on Sunday evenings. Despite Madame Pince’s best efforts, even she couldn’t curb the frantic whispers of Hogwarts’ resident procrastinators. Their nail biting, pitiful groans, and anxious pleas to copy notes and essays always resembled more of a dull roar than quiet whispers. 

Harry smirked as he looked around. They were hidden really well in a dusty part of the library that was rarely traversed for one reason or another, most probably due to the dust mites and spiders that roamed around and because this particular corner is where Binns stored his favorite books on goblin wars and politics. Just above Harry’s head was a first edition copy of Gubakz the Greatshadow’s memoirs. Apparently, he was most famous for beheading the leaders of enemy clans and drinking their blood. He believed their life blood kept him young. His clan had more enemies than it knew what to do with, particularly because of Gubakz’ bloodlust. That wasn’t meant in the conventional way. Whenever he experienced even the slightest sign of illness his clan went to war on trumped up charges against his neighbors. Towards the end of his life he didn’t even bother with those. 

Binns gifted the books to the castle upon his death in the hopes that children might eventually take a shine to the subject one day. In Harry’s memory only one student had ever meandered down this particular aisle, Hermione Granger. And, even she had given it up after a short time. 

Harry was in a pleasant mood because he could honestly say that he wasn’t one of those procrastinators tonight. Blaise had kept focused throughout the weekend on both school work and research, and it had paid off. One might think that it would have been boring, but Harry was beginning to find Blaise’s presence as soothing as it had been intriguing in the beginning of their acquaintance. They had slipped into an easy relationship that wasn’t too heavily pressured, surprisingly, by outside forces. It was really nice. 

“I’m done,” he grinned, rolling up his parchment and slipping it into his bag. Not even Snape would be able to find fault with that essay. It was practically perfect. It had the content specified in the prompt, and Blaise had helped him frame his explanation in a way that the old dungeon bat would appreciate. 

“Great,” Blaise mumbled, his quill still scribbling rapidly. “Now, fancy giving me a hand with mine? I’m having difficulty with this counter curse. I understand how it is meant to counter the strangulation hex, but I can’t figure out how you’re supposed to implement it when you’re being strangled. Unless you’re adept at non-verbal casting, this is of no help to you.” 

Harry nodded as he moved around the table to sit beside Blaise and read over his essay and the original prompt. 

“So, you’re supposed to state the properties of the curse and its counter as well as how they are both cast: the incantations and wand movements?” 

“Yes, and after that I am to summarize the efficacy of both,” Blaise nodded and sat back in his chair with a sigh. He was clear on all aspects of the original curse as well as the properties of the counter curse and how it picked apart the bindings of the original hex, but he didn’t understand how you could cast if you couldn’t breathe, let alone speak. In addition, the wand movements for the counter curse were damn intricate and nearly impossible to execute in a real life scenario.

“Hm, your prompt is a little trickier than mine,” Harry said, scratching his head. “The issue with this curse is not only the inability to speak,” Harry mumbled to himself, trying to work it out in his head. “It also poses the problem of poise. Most witches and wizards would be prone to panicking in a situation where they are unable to breath and would have trouble just remembering that the curse had a counter in the first place.” 

Blaise nodded, “Yes, that is an issue, but if you knew what to look for you could avoid the situation altogether.” 

Harry nodded, “I think that would be my answer to this.” 

Blaise arched an eyebrow, “Explain further please.” 

“Well,” Harry began, “If I were in a situation where this curse might be aimed at me,” he picked up Blaise’s notes and skimmed to the properties of the original hex and reviewed the wand movements, “I’d see it coming a mile away and counter before it could be implemented. This is a lengthy incantation.”

Blaise nodded, “Right, and the wand movements are complex and distinguishable when compared with others that are simpler. This won’t help in every situation where the victim might be sleeping or already trussed up, but that’s a different situation altogether. This prompt specifies two able-bodied witches or wizards partaking in a wizard’s duel.”

Harry smiled, “So you should-”

“There you are,” a voice interrupted their musings. 

Harry and Blaise both looked up to find Draco, Pansy, and Daphne standing above their table. 

“We’ve been looking all over for you Blaise,” Daphne said. She tilted her head as she observed the pair at the desk. They were sitting awfully close to each other when they’d walked up and Blaise had his arm draped across the back of Potter’s seat. The Gryffindor might not have noticed, since he was leaning forward on the table before them, but it was still a peculiar situation to hazard upon. “Your Gryffindors are searching for you as well Potter,” she said mildly. 

“Yes, they are tramping around the castle like rampaging trolls and have been all morning and afternoon. To their defense, it’s no surprise that they haven’t located you yet. No would expect you to have the capacity for utilizing that brain of yours for more than a few hours. Who would have suspected you would still be holed up with Blaise…here… ever since this morning?” Draco sneered, his comment directed at both boys.

As far as Malfoy was concerned, Blaise was spending too much time with the _Savior_ , and it was really starting to irritate Draco. He had hardly seen his best friend more than a few hours in the past few days. There’s no way their charms project could demand such an excessive amount of time together. Surely, some of it they could have been completed alone, division of labor and all that rot.

Harry glared up at the snide Slytherin, but Draco took little notice of his growing ire. 

Pansy sniffed and picked up one of the text books on the table, “This isn’t even charms work,” she stated, hefting Harry’s defense text. 

Blaise withheld a sigh and removed his arm from Harry’s chair. He’d hardly noticed moving it there, but he did notice Daphne’s inscrutable gaze, analyzing the situation, and Draco’s budding anger. He was working himself up into a tantrum the size of which neither Harry nor Blaise had experienced since the end of fifth year. 

“We’re just getting a little homework done since we’re already here,” Zabini said calmly with a blank face. He could hardly send Harry away now that they’d been found, and he realized that he didn’t have the slightest inclination to do so even if he could. This meeting could be good for all of them. Once this sticking charm was countered, Blaise still planned to spend time with Harry even just as friends, and if his friends and housemates – he glanced at Pansy; that harridan was certainly not a friend – could become accustomed and at least tolerant of the Gryffindor’s presence then that would make his life that much simpler. “You are all welcome to join us if you like.” 

Draco scowled and Pansy looked pained, but Daphne only narrowed her eyes as she pulled out the seat adjacent to Potter. 

Draco sighed heavily, and sat down in front of Blaise, leaving Pansy to choose the seat either in front of Potter or adjacent to Blaise. She chose the latter with a huff.

Draco eyed his friend and frowned. His expression was clear. _What the hell is up with you?_

Blaise just gazed at his friend but remained silent. He’d already spoken to Draco about Harry. The Italian knew that he would have to speak to him again, but for the time being he just wanted Draco to keep the peace. This wasn’t the place or the time for such a conversation and Draco knew that.

Harry, for his part, remained silent. Things remained awkward until Daphne broke the silence. 

“You have no desire to go see your friends, Potter? They did seem pretty frantic to find you, like they thought Blaise might carve and stuff you for Halloween.” 

Harry just smiled a little to himself at the image that evoked. He imagined himself dressed as a carved pumpkin, spilling candied guts before looking up at the reserved Slytherin. “No, I told them what I was doing and who I would be with. That’s enough; in fact, it’s more than enough.” Harry said in response, losing all mirth and replacing it with tightly contained irritation. Hermione and Ron were brilliant friends sometimes, but that didn’t mean they couldn’t be suffocating. The few times he had spent more time with them recently had been strained and difficult, and he was, honestly, in no hurry to run off and find them even if he could. 

Draco turned his gaze from Blaise and looked at Potter, taking a long calculated glance. He wasn’t sure what Blaise found so compelling, but it was true that he didn’t know much about the Gryffindor aside from his _gallant adventures_. He knew little of Potter, to be sure, but that hardly mattered to Malfoy. The boy was infuriating, and that’s all he needed to know for now. In any case, he didn’t have time to deal with Blaise and his new obsession; it was nearly time to implement his plan with the impending Hogsmeade weekend approaching next week. Once that task was done, for good or for worse, he could save his family and hope for the best. 

A large lump lodged its way into his throat as he thought of his orders. He didn’t know what to do, but he had no choice in the matter. _He_ would kill him and his mother and father if he didn’t carry out his orders, and no one could protect them from _him_. And, even if they could why would they want to? Despite their wealth, his family had fallen into disrepute due to his father’s foolish actions of late, and who stood a chance against the Dark Lord? Certainly, not this short, impulsive Gryffindor, Draco thought despondently. With a heavy sigh, Draco followed Daphne’s lead and pulled out his homework. 

Twenty minutes later, it was relatively silent, apart from Pansy’s moaning and groaning about the amount of work they had to do. They chit was really insufferable at times. “Pansy, the sooner you be quiet and get to work, the sooner you will get done. And, if you can’t manage to work quietly, you can at least sit silently,” Draco hissed. “I can’t work with your incessant chatter.” 

Harry glanced up from his muted conversation with Blaise to witness Draco’s barbed tongue directed at someone other than himself. It was surprisingly amusing. He almost laughed at Pansy’s crimson face; it was nearly as red as Ron’s when he’s flown into a tizzy. 

“But, Drakey!” the girl whined, “It really is horrid. Why did we even take ancient runes?”  
“We happen to enjoy ancient runes,” Daphne drawled, gesturing towards the other two Slytherins at the table, “but considering that you are completely abysmal at it I also wonder why you chose to continue after your third year.” 

Blaise snorted and turned back to his essay, used to this type of thing between the four of them, but Harry was thoroughly entertained. Even members of her own house didn’t want to deal with Pansy’s irascible voice and childish temperament. 

Pansy glared at the girl and puffed up like a toad about to croak, “No one asked you Greengrass.” 

Blaise nudged Harry, requesting his attention, and Harry soon put their argument out of his mind. Blaise was nearly finished with his essay, and despite the initial difficulty, he believed they’d come up with something Snape would find more than acceptable. Blaise thought it was amazing, Harry's intuitiveness. He was brilliant in defense not because of his yearly trials at school, like everyone believed. Although that did play a part, it mostly stemmed from Harry’s instinctive grasp of theory. He understood how these spells were intended to work on a fundamental level and based on that he could adapt them in unique ways to different situations. It was wicked how his mind operated.

\---:::---

“Things are going to be strange tomorrow,” Harry said later that night in the Slytherin dorms, turning in bed to gaze at Blaise. The Slytherin was sitting up in bed against the headboard; his chest was bare again, a constant distraction for Harry every time he turned in the Blaise’s direction.

Blaise sat his book on the duvet beneath him and smiled softly at Harry, “I have no doubt it will be, but it won’t be too bad. We’ll just continue to use the same excuse until we fix this. It shouldn’t be too long now.” 

Harry snorted, “Yeah right, we’ve been at it all weekend, and we’ve had no luck.” 

“We still don’t know that it won’t wear off on its own,” Blaise said. 

Harry arched an eyebrow, “You really want to try that out?” 

Blaise chuckled, “No, not really, but it will be okay tomorrow. I’m sure. We’ll go to class as usual and then slip off during our free period. After that, we’ll spend the next couple of days in Gryffindor Tower, since we spent the weekend here.” 

Harry nodded. That was a good idea, since their original plan to return to the Gryffindors tonight had been thwarted by the appearance of the Draco, Daphne, and Pansy in the library. They’d insisted that Blaise accompany them to dinner which meant that Harry had to once again hide beneath the invisibility cloak and watch his friends fret about his skipped meals. They were really going to give him hell tomorrow, especially if they’d ignored his notes and disabled the charms around his four-poster and realized that he wasn’t sick in bed. For the past couple of days, Harry had Dobby leave notes saying that he was either with his charm’s partner or sick in bed and didn’t feel like being bothered. If Hermione and Ron found that to be a lie, then there would be no end to their pestering. They didn’t believe that he should ever be on his own, but Harry was surprised that Hermione hadn’t insisted on taking him to Madame Pomfrey. That reprieve must have been Neville’s and possibly Ron’s doing.

“Are you having any luck tonight?” Blaise asked, changing the subject and pointing to the parchments scattered across his bed. Harry had been perusing their charms notes for the last couple of hours.

Harry’s mood instantly declined and a sweet pout adorned his face. Blaise stilled. _So cute!_ Harry had so many facets to his personality.

“No.”

Giving himself a mental shake, Blaise smirked, “I figured you might say that.” 

Harry looked up at his questioningly, tilting his head quite fetchingly. “What do you mean by that?”

“I’ve gone over them extensively too, and I still have found nothing that should have us sticking together like parchment and spello-tape.”

Harry snickered, “Yeah, this isn’t going to get us anywhere. We’ll more than likely have to start from scratch,” Harry said, placing their old notes on the comforter and laying his head on his folded arms. 

Blaise nodded. There was a lull in conversation; he watched at Harry closed his eyes preparing to snooze a little it seemed. The Slytherin moved to his knees and stacked their notes and placed them in his bag before moving it to the floor. They’d already eaten, showered and changed for bed, Harry in night clothes and Blaise in his silk sleep pants. After clearing a space, he ran his hand through Harry’s hair unthinkingly, waking him up. The longer they remained attached, the easier it was becoming to touch the slight Gryffindor. 

“Why don’t you come up here? You’re getting tired, and I want to ask you a question before you go to sleep.”

Harry laughed quietly, “Okay mother.”

Blaise scowled at Harry’s joke but made room for him at the head of the bed. 

“So, what do you want to know,” Harry asked, yawning in spite of himself. He glared at Blaise’s triumphant smile. 

“Draco.” 

“Huh?” Harry questioned, taken completely by surprise.

“How do you feel about Draco? I know you aren’t the best of friends, but…”

Harry wasn’t sure how to answer that question. He didn’t hate Malfoy like he believed he did long ago, but they were far from friends. Moreover, he stilled believed that the Malfoy heir was planning something dangerous. 

Deciding to go for broke, Harry began honestly. “I think that he’s up to something, something dangerous; something that probably has to do with Voldemort; something that might get a lot of innocent people hurt or killed.” Harry was pleasantly surprised to see that Blaise didn’t flinch at the sound of the Dark Lord’s name. In fact, his gorgeous face seemed to be carved from stone as he stared blankly at Harry. 

Harry wasn’t sure if he should feel flustered or wary that Blaise wasn’t surprised that his friend might be plotting something dangerous.

Either way, Blaise’s undivided attention began to make the Gryffindor nervous, so he continued if only to fill the silence, “I don’t know what it is, but I just have a feeling, and unfortunately when I feel like this bad things always happen to me and the people I care about. Frankly, I’m scared and angry because of that fear,” he admitted for the first time since he’d entered the wizarding world, looking down at the green covers, no longer able to meet Blaise’s piercing eyes. He’d briefly glimpsed the purple again, and this time – after Blaise’s confession regarding his eyes – it was a little nerve wracking.

The warm hand suddenly around his throat surprised him, but it didn’t frighten him. It slid slowly up to palm his chin and lift his gaze again. “Tell me,” Blaise said quietly. It was clear to him that Harry needed to get this off his chest. 

“I’m scared,” he repeated with a shiver. “I don’t know what’s going to happen. I’m not that powerful or smart, and I have next to no training. I’m no more remarkable than the average sixth year Hogwarts’ student and yet everyone expects so much from me because of something my mother did when I was a child. She cast that spell on me, whatever it was, that stopped Voldemort the first time; it had little to do with me, but people don’t acknowledge that. I know that logically they must realize that a toddler couldn’t have defeated the most powerful Dark Lord since Grindelwald, but as I’m all that remains after that day the wizarding populace believe that I can do something for them,” Harry snorted, “I’m only sixteen; even Dumbledore was an experienced Hogwarts professor before he defeated Grindelwald. What do people expect from me when they won’t even take the time to train me further than the average student? Snape hates me, but at least he realizes this and pushes me. Granted, his tactics never yield good results,” he laughed bitterly. 

“Beyond that,” he glared down at his lap, fisting the covers, “I'm pissed as hell. My family is dead; I am an orphan, but no one seriously acknowledges that fact and what it means for a young _wizard_ raised in the muggle world,” he spat. 

That last sentence sent dread cascading down Blaise’s spine, but he allowed Harry to continue without interruption, watching his expression and taking in the sheer determination and fire in his eyes. The little Gryffindor really was sight to behold, a study in contradictions but slightly awe-inspiring nonetheless.

“They expect me to give and give, but I want to take a little sometimes too. My own friends have lost faith in me, not that I can rightly blame them after last year, but I desperately wanted to save Sirius. I didn’t know what to do; he was…is,” Harry corrected, “all I have left, and I’ll be damned if I left anyone take him from me. When I think of destroying Voldemort, it has nothing to do with the fickle public or even Dumbledore. It’s because when I kill him I will have my life back, and I will be able to tell everyone else to shove off,” he said, huffing exasperatedly by the end. He’d never voiced any of that, and it felt good to release it; he didn’t know how strongly the resentment was burning in chest, and the louder he voiced it the more resolute he became to do something about it.

“When I look at Malfoy, especially after last Saturday,” he continued in a more controlled manner, “I get this icy feeling sliding down my back, and I just know that he’s experiencing something similar, and I can only imagine one other person heaping such pressure upon him. I’d like to think that he’s not handling it much better than I am. That he’s falling apart at the seams just like me, that he’s terrified but determined too. We’re only kids _Blaise_ ,” Harry said, looking at the Slytherin imploringly, “I’m determined to do the best I can to stop him because I _do not_ want to die,” Harry said emphatically, “and because Voldemort’s an insane sadistic bastard, but more importantly I want my life back.”

Hearing Harry call his name like that was wrenching. Harry was hurting, sinking beneath others’ expectations, and fighting to resurface. Beyond that, it was clear that the boy didn’t see himself clearly, couldn’t see his own talents and worth. Whatever Harry was, he wasn't just a normal Hogwarts’ sixth year.

Harry didn’t know what to make of Blaise’s continued silence, so he just closed his eyes, melted into the pillows beneath him and whispered nox.

“Good night Harry,” Blaise whispered, scooting closer to Harry’s warmth unconsciously. 

Harry smiled before he gave into the sandman, his fingertips just grazing Blaise’s bare arm. 

Blaise didn’t know what to do. He wouldn’t betray Draco, but he could no longer just abandon Harry. He’d have to find a way to protect them both; the boy in front of him was slowly getting under his skin, and Blaise wasn’t sure he wanted to stop him. Harry was exceedingly puzzling, and he enjoyed picking him apart, but more than that his disguised fragility called to the protective nature inside of the Slytherin, and he couldn’t ignore it.

\---:::---

The next morning Harry walked into the transfiguration classroom after breakfast about fifteen feet behind the Slytherins. Breakfast was an awkward affair just as it was Sunday morning. Harry sat behind his partner on the floor underneath his invisibility cloak and waited for Blaise to slide food onto his lap for the Gryffindor to surreptitiously grab. It was tricky and annoying, and it had the disconcerting effect of making Harry’s cheeks blush like a rose and his heart pound to have his hand so close to Blaise unmentionables. Although he couldn’t see him, Blaise seemed to find amusement in Harry shy disconcertion, but Harry was not so entertained.

“Harry! Where have you been?” Hermione hissed as Harry slid into the seat conveniently left open between her and Ron. 

“Good morning, I-”

“Yeah, mate it’s like you’ve been a ghost all weekend. We’ve hardly seen you, and you skipped breakfast again. Hell, were you even in the dorm last night?” 

“You weren’t in the dorms last night, Harry?” Hermione shrieked, apparently appalled. “Please tell me you haven’t taken to following the Slytherins around again, like in second year.” 

Ron’s eyes opened wide, and he sat up straighter in his chair, “You’ve been investigating the slimy snakes without us?”

“Ronald,” Hermione huffed, “even if Harry were doing something as foolish as that, you don’t need to tag along and behave foolishly with him. You need to get started on your charms project, and we have an essay due tomorrow which you haven’t begun yet either.” 

The redhead rolled his eyes and returned to his slumped position against the desk. “Leave me alone, Mione.” 

Harry sighed; clearly he wasn’t going to be able to get a word in anytime soon, especially since Professor McGonagall walked in to begin class. 

“Quiet students,” she said in a clipped voice as she made her way to the front of the classroom to stand behind the lectern. “We’ll begin aptitude testing for the human transfiguration spell. For those of you who have the potential to become animagi, you will spend the rest of the term beginning the early steps of the transformation. The first step is meditation to discover the animal you will transform into.”

Hermione nodded and took rapid notes, taking down each word verbatim. 

McGonagall pinned each of her students with a fierce scowl. This next step was the most vital, and it was where most students dithered about the most. “Your second step involves outside research. You will spend an exorbitant amount of time getting to know your animal. You will learn its most common appearance. Does it have scales, fur, or feathers? What is its natural color? Is it primarily nocturnal? How does it reproduce? What is its natural lifespan? How sensitive are its senses? You need to understand its temperament and how that matches your own. You must know its eating habits. Does it hibernate during different times of the year? You must also have an intimate knowledge of its anatomy inside as well as out outside. Do you understand? Keep in mind that your transformation will not express all of the animal’s features. For example, if you are a bear animagus you will not have the urge to hibernate in the winter if you transform in December, but it is important to know this information. You must know what it feels like and how it breathes, so that you might replicate the same. A single mistake can yield unimaginable, terrifying results.”

Ron groaned loudly and whispered, “Not more research, first Flitwick, now McGonagall. This year bites.” 

Hermione leveled him with a deep scowl but remained silent. Harry could only turn to his friend and smile in silent commiseration. He had no idea how he would deal with his and Blaise's problem, on top of Sirius’ as well as two major class projects.

Neville raised his hand, interrupting the professor’s speech and distracting Harry from his absentminded inner thoughts. “Professor, if certain aspects of the animal will not affect us, why is it necessary to learn about those characteristics?” 

“That’s a good question,” McGonagall nodded. “In this case, the bear, you won’t necessarily want to hibernate in the winter. However if you spend a prolonged amount of time in that state during the winter, you will have an increased appetite as it is natural for a bear to gain weight in the hibernating months.” 

She glanced around at her students, assuring that they focused on her lecture. “For those of you who do not have the potential of becoming an animagus, you will be undertaking the animation spell which is equally challenging. Turning an inanimate object into an animate object is fairly difficult because animate objects develop their own personalities and proclivities towards certain behaviors and actions dependent upon their original purpose. It is up to the caster and their will how the object will behave upon animation, and it is exceedingly difficult to impose your will upon anything even a teacup for example. The creator of that teacup had certain hopes, desires, and intentions in mind when they created it, and those are imbued into the object. When animating an object imagine that you are imposing your will upon the original creator rather than the cup itself and you may have more success. Regardless, I imagine that many of you will struggle with this spell. ”

“Additionally, if you so choose, I am obliged to inform you that you may decide to spend this time learning the animation spell if you do not want to become an animagus even if you possess the talent,” McGonagall stated although she had a peculiar expression on her face as she said it as if she couldn’t understand why one wouldn’t want to become and animagi if they could. 

Harry just averted his eyes. He did want to become an animagus if he was able, but he hated the pressure to do so that he felt from McGonagall. His father and godfather were gifted animagi, and she was determined that Harry would be as well. He sighed, _good grief_. 

“However, keep in mind that the animation spell is on the transfiguration newt and this concept will be taught to those of you who decide to try your hand at becoming an animagus, so if you possess the capacity it will be in your best interest to pursue it now. You will not miss out on learning the animation spell,” McGonagall continued. “Now, today we will begin the aptitude tests. They will encompass the whole of this week, but by Friday you will be well aware if your body is amenable to a transfiguration at the cellular level.

Hermione heaved a relieved sigh and smiled. It would have been a shame to have to choose between the two. When class ended, they packed up their notes and books, and made for the door.

\---:::---

As he expected, their separation during their free period was a little heated, especially when Harry admitted who he would be with, but it had ended fairly quickly when Peeves swooped through the halls with stink bombs, dispersing all of the students. Blaise, of course, didn’t have much trouble with his friends. At least, not in public. Harry was sure he’d be an invisible witness to a Malfoy tantrum later on in the day.

Harry and Blaise entered the kitchen, and Blaise tugged off the cloak, handing it back to its owner. The kitchen elves were quick and efficient and soon had both students seated with cottage pie, fresh cut fruit, and juice. The meal felt more like dinner to Harry than a light lunch, but, considering the small amount of breakfast Blaise was able to snatch for him, Harry was nothing short of famished. The beef in the cottage pie was succulent and the steamed vegetables were perfect, not too soft or tough. Harry most likely wouldn’t finish it all though, especially with the mash on top and the sliced fruit. The house elves were always overindulging him. If he wasn’t carful, he’d gain two stone by continually coming here for meals. 

“I still can’t believe you have known how to gain entrance to Hogwarts’ kitchens for so long,” Blaise said, looking around as he pulled his plate closer to him.

Harry watched him bemusedly before grabbing his knife and fork. “It’s not too hard when you’ve got a drawn map,” Harry teased. Blaise had been quite shocked when they first entered the kitchens because deep down he hadn’t actually believed that Harry knew where it was. As far as he knew, no one did. It was a well-guarded secret among the castle staff, and every first year that went hunting for it always returned disheartened, having no luck at all. 

After taking a few minutes to dig in, Harry began, “I think we should speak to a professor soon about this,” Harry said, gesturing between the two of them.

“Getting tired of me already Potter,” Blaise teased. 

Harry frowned before he noticed the tiny tilt to the Slytherin’s lips. Harry snorted and turned back to his lunch, “You know this isn’t going to work much longer.” 

Blaise nodded as he thanked the tiny elf refilling his pumpkin juice. “You’re right. This is very tricky and becoming a little inconvenient. It would be a touch more manageable if more people knew. Then they could help cover for us. I doubt that if we ask a professor they will have immediate solutions for us, so we would probably still want to have a few people to help.” 

Harry swallowed his mouthful and gazed at the tame chaos of the elves’ kitchen. They all worked so well together that they seemed slightly hive-minded. Elves were zipping to and fro, carrying five foot tall stacks of dishes and levitating heavy, sloshing pitchers of juice in preparation for lunch and yet nothing ever dropped, dripped or splattered onto the ground. What would it be like to possess that level of efficiency? 

“I agree,” Harry said quietly, turning to look at Blaise beside him. Considering the large size of the table they were seated at, the boy was a little closer than what might be considered proper, but Harry couldn’t bring himself to care. He was quickly becoming accustomed to having the Slytherin so near. It was comforting and coupled with the growing crush Harry was nursing he didn’t want Blaise going too far. 

He cleared his throat and swallowed the lump that had suddenly lodged itself there when Blaise turned to gaze back at him. “I agree,” he repeated, “but we’ll have to be careful. Halloween is approaching, and strange Voldemort related things almost always occur on Halloween. It would be dangerous for us if the wrong people found out that we can’t be separated right now. If they knew the painful consequences it could prove dangerous for you as well as me.” 

Blaise nodded. They would have to consider their choices carefully, but he already knew who he would tell: his head of house, of course, and two others. From what he’d observed last weekend and this afternoon, it appeared that Harry’s choices would be more difficult. “After classes today, we should talk to Professor Snape first.” 

Harry sighed; he really didn’t want to imagine all of the scathing remarks he would have to suffer from the slimy git after they told him, but even Harry could admit that the defense professor was one of their best options right now, considering what Sirius said about Snape’s knowledge of magical theory. “Okay, we’ll go after-”

“Harry Potter, sir!” Harry stopped speaking and looked over to a bouncing Dobby who held out a folded letter. 

“Thank you, Dobby.”

Dobby squealed and simpered for a couple of minutes before returning to his previous duties. 

“He really is exhausting,” Blaise mumbled, slightly startled by the elf’s adoration. He’d seen it before, but it was still shocking at times. 

Harry just laughed a little before flipping the letter open, reading it quickly.

“It looks like we might have to wait until tomorrow to tell Snape,” Harry said, staring confusedly at the missive in his hand. 

“What is it?” Blaise asked, leaning over, brushing his shoulder against Harry’s. 

“Dumbledore wants to see me tonight directly after dinner. I don’t know what he wants, but it looks like it might take a while. He’s alluding to lessons of some sort, but it’s vague. He’s always so damn cryptic,” Harry huffed.

\---:::---

**A/N: This is sort of a transition chapter to the big things that will be coming in the next few chapters. First, are Harry’s _lessons_ with Dumbledore that Blaise will sit in on out of necessity (haha). Also, there will be some serious conversations coming up between some of the characters you guys are really worried about – chief among them is Draco, our resident sexy blonde. We will also have some of the other major characters that I love coming in. Things are really starting to heat up, so I’m really excited despite the fact that his chapter might seem a little slow. It’s transitional in every way: plot-wise and in relationships. I’m still undecided on Hermione and Ron. Should I let them get their act together and remain close friends with Harry or should I just let them drift out of the picture a bit. I doubt I’ll do a ton of hardcore bashing, but right now I can go either way with Ron and Hermione on whether or not they should stay with Harry. I’m really undecided with Hermione, but I’m starting to think that Ron is pretty cute in this fic, so I kind of want to hang onto him and drop Hermione. What do you guys think? Let me know in a comment or review. I will definitely take your opinions into consideration! **

**In any case, I hope you guys still like this chapter. Also, I hate to spoil my own fic, but I feel that I must clarify something before I disappoint a bunch of readers later in the story who like the Draco/Neville ship. That relationship will not be in this story. I have different plans for both of those characters. :D That’s all lol. I really hope that you guys like this chapter. Read and Review please. :)**


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Omg! Thanks so much for all of your wonderful comments! Here’s chapter 6 as promised, and chapter 7 will be posted here on Friday. I hope you guys enjoy it. Chapter 6 is one of my favorites, so I hope you guys like it too.**

**Um, just this last thing, the first scene in this fic happens on Monday night just after the previous chapter. I know that in canon this actually took place on a Saturday, but I’d already written Monday, so I just decided to leave it in case that bothers any one. :)**

\---:::---

****

Chapter 6

“Do you have any idea what he might want?” Blaise whispered into Harry’s ear as he walked next to him beneath the Gryffindor’s invisibility cloak.

Harry shivered as Blaise’s warm breath grazed his ear. How the boy could accomplish that through the material of the cloak, Harry had no idea.

He cleared his throat and fought valiantly against a blush. He shook his head and murmured quietly because there were still many students milling around after dinner, “No. He alluded to private lessons, but I can’t imagine what that might entail. All I can say is it’s about damn time.”

Blaise smirked as he watched Harry unabashedly; he gave the slight boy his undivided attention as he looked down at him. Harry’s indignant scowl that bordered on a pout was too sweet. If Blaise hadn’t spoken to Harry about this previously and understood just how frustrated Harry was about the dearth of formal dueling training, Blaise would doubt the sincerity of his anger. That expression was really charming. 

Blaise scarcely watched where he was going as he followed his partner to the guardian gargoyle. He easily sidestepped and averted human obstacles and statues with surprising ease. In the few days they had spent stuck together, Blaise and Harry had become exceptionally spatially aware of the other, despite one of them hiding beneath Harry’s invisibility cloak majority of the time.

The Slytherin stepped up behind Harry and leaned over his back, dodging a group of Hufflepuff girls. The way they were giggling and staring at Harry, Blaise figured they were first years.

“Acid pops,” Harry intoned when they reached the gargoyle. It slid aside and revealed the spiral staircase that led up to Dumbledore’s office. 

Blaise straightened up and looked around the eccentric man’s office. The air was teeming with magic and the excess made Blaise’s skin tingle like it did every time he entered the room of requirement. Considering the large number of magical items scattered haphazardly about the room, it was no surprise. The Slytherin wondered how the Headmaster could stand to be in the room for hours on end; that amount of the magic concentrated in such a small room was suffocating. That was one of the reasons old wizarding families tended to have large properties and manors. Certainly, it had to do with their desire to display their wealth and live in opulence, but before that, in the distant past, wizards and witches desired more land and larger homes to disperse the magic of their items as well as the magic naturally released from their core. 

“Ah, Harry my boy,” Dumbledore said, sitting behind his large ornate oak desk. 

Harry nodded, “Good evening Headmaster.”

“Would you like a lemon drop?”

Blaise stood still, hovering just beyond Harry’s left shoulder blade while the two others sat and exchanged pleasantries. If he shifted half an inch, he could brush the Gryffindor’s body. As it was, he didn’t even shiver and maintained complete control over his body. Dumbledore didn’t seem to suspect his presence in the room, but he couldn’t be sure, so he didn’t want to bring any unnecessary attention to himself. 

“Before we begin,” Harry said, drawing the Slytherin’s attention from his surroundings, “I would like to ask you to not ever remove any of Sirius’ or the Black’s belongings from Grimmauld Place without my permission from this moment forward,” Harry said, surprising the Headmaster and startling many of the portraits with his cheek. Never had a student entered the headmaster’s office and thought to give the Supreme Mugwump orders.

Blaise gazed upon Harry with pride and small smirk; he was happy that the Gryffindor was asserting himself, and the boy looked damn good while doing so. His eyes were blazing with determination and his body taut with indignation. Harry wouldn’t give an inch on this matter. 

Across the room, Phineas Nigellus Black regarded the young man with intrigue. He stood boldly before the Headmaster, defending the Black house and holdings stanchly, and he was a Gryffindor no less. He snorted. The previous heirs of his were a disgrace, but it seemed this last one – Sirius, named after Phineas’ late brother _Merlin rest his soul_ – had done the family a favor and chosen an heir with more promise than himself. 

“My boy,” Dumbledore began after a pause, realizing Harry was referring to the Black tapestry as that was the only thing he'd removed from Grimmauld in recent months, “I only meant to protect you from further pain regarding Sirius’ passing, and there was no harm done.” 

Harry narrowed his eyes at the Headmaster. _No harm done? That is only thanks to Blaise; if he hadn’t suggested consulting the tapestry to be sure of Sirius’ death, then no would have seen that he was alive, and by the time anyone noticed it might have been too late. Who knew what was happening to the animagus’ body and mind, even now, wherever he was?_ Suddenly, Harry was very anxious to speak with Professor Snape and begin searching for a way to bring his Godfather home. Harry was ashamed to admit that he hadn’t spoken to his Godfather in two days, and now he was really worried about him. He moved his hand furtively to his pocket and fingered the glass there; he never left his or Blaise’s dorm without that mirror now. It seemed as essential to Harry’s wellbeing as his wand. The Gryffindor felt no desire to tell Dumbledore about Sirius’ sustained life beyond the veil, not now or possibly ever. From Harry’s perspective, the man had shown little grief or remorse upon his Godfather’s death, and he didn’t trust Dumbledore with that information.

“And, surely you don’t consider that dreary place to be your home,” Dumbledore continued without pause. 

Harry stiffened further. No matter how much time passed, the man could not accept the fact that the Dursleys were abusive, unfit guardians. The Headmaster could hardly believe that Harry truly disliked them, passing it off as teenaged angst. 

Harry shook his head, “Regardless of your intentions Headmaster that is my home, the only one I have right now because I do not have access to the full Black inheritance or the Potter inheritance because I have yet to turn seventeen. Still, my Godfather left it and the Black inheritance to me, and despite its disrepair I cherish every part of that home because it was Sirius’, and he saw fit to give it to me. I will not allow you to deprive me of his legacy and lasting memory.” 

“But the Dursley’s-,” the Headmaster began.

“I live there by your order, but that is not my home,” Harry said firmly, holding Dumbledore’s gaze. 

Dumbledore nodded gravely. He would concede to Harry in this. As long as the Order retained the use of Grimmauld Place as their headquarters and Harry remained with his muggle relatives as he was told, then Dumbledore had little cause for concern. Sirius had removed majority of the dark items from Number Twelve upon his escape from Azkaban, so the place was safe, and he had no intentions of allowing Harry to reside there permanently anytime soon, so it was of little consequence. What was concerning, was how the boy learned of the tapestry’s removal in the first place.

“If I may, how did you learn of the tapestry’s removal, Harry,” he asked, grabbing a lemon drop and deftly popping it into his mouth.

Harry began cautiously, “Kreacher informed me.” 

Dumbledore shook his head in disapproval, “Harry, you know it is against the rules to make use of house elves in the castle, especially Hogwarts’ elves; you should not take them from their duties for you own trivialities.” 

Harry clenched his jaw in irritation. Again, Dumbledore was treating him like a child, and he felt compelled to remind the Headmaster, “Kreacher never was before and never will be a Hogwarts’ elf, Headmaster. He resides here only because I allow it…because I command it, and regardless of his disdain for me I am the only living heir to the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black and the elf is loyal only to me.”

“Here, here!” Phineas couldn’t help but call out. Dumbledore was getting too big for his breeches if he thought a Black elf would ever be subservient to anyone other than a member of the Black household.

Both Dumbledore and Harry ignored the painting as they stared at each other, but Blaise looked up and watched the previous Headmaster closely. He seemed inordinately proud of Harry’s speech, puffing up like an outraged hippogriff. Blaise of course was pleasantly surprised by Harry’s continued boldness, but his simmering anger and irritation did not surprise the Slytherin at all. It seemed to be a shock to this painting though, more so than the others. After reading the name plate beneath the painting, he could understand why. Any man as self-respecting as the former Headmaster, Phineas Nigellus Black would take pride in an heir that protected their household. After all, many heads of house gave their sweat, blood, and tears to protect their house and see it flourish, and knowing that you have an heir that will do the same, that will endeavour to bring honor to their name and bloodline eases any man’s mind.

Harry sighed and appeared to have capitulated, “I see that we are at odds in this, Headmaster, so I will send Kreacher home. Perhaps, if he is there, I will be less inclined to make use of his services,” Harry rolled his eyes, _As if I have that elf at my beck and call every hour of the day_. Sure, he was his master until Sirius returned, but he’d prefer to have as little contact with the hateful little beast as possible. “And, he can better keep an eye on Sirius’ home from there,” he finished, eyeing Dumbledore critically. 

Before Dumbledore could object, Harry summoned the elf quietly, “Kreacher.” He didn’t feel the need to yell. He wasn’t frantic as he was before, and he knew that the elf would feel his summons whether he screamed or whispered. As he’d said before, he was Kreacher’s master through and through until Sirius returned. There was no need to flaunt it unnecessarily by yelling. 

The elf entered with an audible pop, “Dirty half-blood master be calling Kreacher,” he asked with a faux bow. 

“Yes,” Harry said, turning to the elf. “You may return home to Grimmauld Place for good now,” he said. 

The elf’s eyes opened wide and seemed to engulf the remainder of his head. When they began to water, Harry was unprepared for the strength of the elf’s gratitude. He blubbered so much Harry could hardly understand him. He silently wondered why both of the two elves beholden to him were such emotional basket cases. Peeling the elf off of his legs and shoes, Harry gave him his final orders. “Once you return home, you are to immediately begin cleaning it up, and I do not mean your usual cleaning which amounts to nothing. You are to restore the house in its entirety from top to bottom to its former glory. Do you understand me? I want every item still in the home in its rightful place, polished and shining. I had better not see any dust, grime, or dirt anywhere upon my return. Do no fail me, Kreacher,” Harry said sternly. Perhaps if he gave the creature something useful to do it would stay out of trouble. That was his only reason for ordering him to Hogwarts in the first place. “You are not to speak to anyone unless I say so or disturb the order meetings that will take place there, but if anyone tries to pilfer items from the house or destroy or vandalize it you have my permission to intervene. You are not to leave the house. If you need any supplies for the restoration of Grimmauld, you are to write to me. Can you write?”

“Kreacher can write,” it hissed indignantly, wiping its nose. His new task seemed to have returned some of his pride because he stood a little straighter and picked at his dirty clothing. Time around the other elves and useful work seemed to have restored a little of the elf’s sanity. Harry could only hope that this time away from them would not lead to a relapse. 

Harry nodded, “Do not leave the residence unless I order it or you are in immediate danger. If that occurs, you are to go to Black Manor and await further instructions. Do you remember the orders I gave you last time?" 

He nodded, “Kreacher be remembering.”

“Good,” Harry said, sitting. “Those are to be followed exactly as well. In addition to those orders and these, I want you to check in with me once a week to inform me of your progress. I don’t want you alone for too long. I can’t have you losing your mind again.” 

The house elf hissed, “Stupid half-blood master, Kreacher is a good elf.”

Harry nodded but didn’t reply; only time would tell how true that was. Harry just wanted a nice place and a sane elf for Sirius to return home to. He looked the elf over; a clean elf might be in order to. “Kreacher, I want you to bathe and clean yourself regularly when you return home.”

His only response was a hiss. 

“And, put on a clean…whatever that is,” Harry gestured to the torn and dirty cloth, hanging from the elf’s shoulders. “I am not giving you clothes, but surely the Black’s had sets of clothing for you or something. I doubt very much that they allowed their elves to receive and serve guests if they looked the way you do.” 

Phineas nodded in his frame, “That is correct my son. This was Walburga’s elf and she certainly wouldn’t have it looking as it does.” The past Headmaster saw that he could easily come to like the current young man before him. Even if he was a Potter, he was decisive and more confident than he was in the past. He rolled his eyes in agitation, just like Charlus Potter. That man was irritating at times, but he had the good sense to marry a Black woman, and he was admirable in mien and decision making. He made his family, on both sides, proud and their coffers quite a bit richer. Phineas would have to spend more time in his other portrait frames when Harry began living in the Black residences.

Harry looked up at the frame for the first time. The man looked so much like Siri that he caught his breath. He could only swallow and nod with a small smile before turning back to Dumbledore. He could see Kreacher bouncing from on his toes, anxious to return home. 

“Is that okay with you, Headmaster?” Harry asked, “If Kreacher comes to give me status updates on the house?” Harry wanted to be clear that he wasn’t asking his consent to give his elf orders regarding his own home, but he did want to be respectful and make sure it was permissible for Kreacher to visit the castle.

Dumbledore, who had remained silent this entire time, sighed. He couldn’t tell the boy what to do with his elf when it was off school grounds, “As long as it does not disturb any classes or this school in any way, then I do not foresee any problems.” 

Harry nodded and turned to the elf. He couldn’t help but smile a little; he’d made that elf really happy. He could tell, and he couldn’t help but find some satisfaction in that, “You may go now Kreacher.” 

Kreacher released a squeak before he popped out of the room and the castle at large. 

Dumbledore relaxed in his chair and studied Harry quietly. The boy had changed in a very short amount of time. It wasn’t anything drastic or worrying as far the Headmaster could tell, but it definitely warranted observation. “I believe it is time to move to the reason I summoned you here Harry. We have precious few hours before curfew, and you have classes tomorrow. I do not want you to fall asleep in class.

Harry nodded.

“Come with me.” 

“Yes, sir.” 

Harry stood as Dumbledore moved around his desk and walked towards the far side of the room to the left of the door. Blaise followed silently, curious about what Dumbledore wanted to show Harry. 

Harry cocked his head to the side, and Blaise smirked. He could tell the boy was confused; he did that quite often when he was baffled. Blaise could even imagine the curious expression most likely gracing Harry’s face at the moment. As it was, once he reached the large circular table and stood beside his partner he could understand Harry’s confusion. Before them sat a large decorated pensieve and several vials that obviously held someone’s memories. 

“These are the lessons sir?” Harry asked. He knew how to the use a pensieve. Snape could give testament to that fact.

Dumbledore chuckled, “No my boy, these are not lessons per se.”

“I do not understand.” 

“These are all memories of the past, Tom’s past.” 

Harry’s eyebrows came together, and his head cocked once more. “Why are we looking at these?”

“I am searching for answers Harry. Answers that are vital to vanquishing Voldemort; I believe those answers are contained here on this table. Well, a couple I have yet to attain, but we will worry about those at a later date. For now, we will be looking at this one,” Dumbledore finished, selecting a vial from the top of the row.

Harry couldn’t help but feel disappointed. He wasn’t sure why Dumbledore felt the need to drag him along on his quest for knowledge and understanding, but he guessed that he should be happy that he was being included in even this small part of Dumbledore’s machinations. Still, it upset him because he wanted to practice some advanced dueling because at the end of the day he knew that’s what it would come down to, and he couldn’t understand why Dumbledore wouldn’t prepare him for that.

The memory whipped around Harry at a frenzied pace before it settled and the boy could take in his surroundings. He was surprised to feel the silky material of his invisibility cloak grazing his hand, but he really shouldn’t have been. If he were Blaise, he would have slipped in too. The fact that the invisibility cloak accompanied him was curious. That thing was really mysterious.

“Where are we,” Harry asked, turning to his professor. 

“This is the memory of Bob Ogden. He is a wizard who used to work at the Ministry in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. As you will see he has arrived at the home of Marvolo Gaunt to administer the charges of unlawful spell usage against a muggle,” Dumbledore explained patiently.

Harry nodded and watched silently as the scene unfolded.

The memory passed and Harry could make neither heads nor tales of it. It seemed so insignificant. So, the Gaunts were bad people. Harry had no problem imagining that considering that they were Voldemort’s relations. Harry really felt bad for Tom; he’d had no chance from the beginning. With volatile, vindictive, violent genes like those flowing through his veins, as well as his horrid upbringing in that disgusting muggle orphanage, his life was a recipe for disaster. Still, that didn’t explain what Harry was supposed to glean from this memory. 

Perhaps Dumbledore would explain further once they were finally ejected. Harry sighed in relief when they finally were a few short seconds later. Harry shuddered; he didn’t think he would ever get the image of Marvolo’s rotting mouth spitting saliva and vitriol at his daughter before he aimed to curse her out of his head, more fodder for nightmares. Voldemort _seriously_ did not have a chance in hell. If he’d been raised by that man instead of in an orphanage, he’d only be more insane than he was now, and he’d probably be much dirtier too.

Harry’s desire for an explanation was not realized as Dumbledore only confused Harry further. “That was Tom’s grandfather and namesake…for his middle name. You also saw his mother and uncle, but they are of little consequence here. It is believed that Tom’s mother fed his father, the man in the carriage at the end of the memory, a love potion. Later, hoping that he had come to love her on his own she stopped feeding it to him, and he left her destitute while she was heavy with child. Still, all of this you may already know, and it is as I said of little consequence. The significance lay with his grandfather, Marvolo.” Dumbledore spoke of their lives with little inflection, like their destitution, violence, crimes and Merope’s pitiful fate were truly of little consequence. 

Harry nodded, expecting Dumbledore to proceed, but the man did not. He only returned to his desk and shuffled the many sheaves of parchment on the large desktop. “It is quite late my boy and curfew is approaching. You should make your way to the tower now I believe. I will summon you again for additional lessons. These are very important Harry,” the Headmaster said, eyeing Harry sternly over his half-moon spectacles. “You must not discuss them with anyone else, save Hermione and Ron. Do you understand?” 

Again Harry nodded, leaving Dumbledore’s office as he often did, confused and frustrated. One thing he did know, the only person he felt compelled to talk to about this bizarre meeting with Dumbledore had already been present in the room. He had no inclination to tell Hermione and Ron anything, especially Hermione.

\---:::---

“What the hell was that all about?” Blaise wondered aloud.

Harry turned to face him in his bed in Gryffindor Tower. “I don’t know,” he shook his head with a huff. “I really don’t understand the significance of the memory. Voldemort wasn’t even in it.”

Blaise nodded as he turned his head towards Harry and smiled ruefully, “I know you’re worried and disappointed, but don’t be.” 

“Hmm,” Harry questioned, closing his eyes a little; it was rather late when they had finally hit the sheets. They’d left Dumbledore’s office when it was nearing nine, and they still had a lot of homework to tackle, not including their extended projects. Needless to say it was nearly one o’clock in the morning and the boys were exhausted, and they had to wake up in the morning and do it all over again. Harry groaned when he reminded himself that it was only Monday night, and they still had the rest of the week to muddle through. They could only pray that the Headmaster didn’t summon them, well Harry, a second day in a row. 

Blaise raised his hand and ran it through Harry’s shaggy hair to push it away from the boy’s eyes, so he could see his face properly. His fingers lingered as they massaged the tension in Harry’s neck and hooked the curling ends of Harry’s hair. “You wanted battle training; I know that’s what you were hoping for, not a trip down memory lane.”

Harry nodded and sighed heavily, but didn’t speak. There was no need to. As Blaise said, he understood how Harry felt already. Besides, this wasn’t the first time the old man had disappointed him, and Harry didn’t feel it was necessary to harp on it. Dumbledore was who he was and no manner of complaint, direct or indirect, would steer him from his selected path. Harry understood that well. Now, he just needed Dumbledore to realize that he would no longer be led by the nose down that path. His future was his to decide; Harry would make it so…despite what the prophesy dictated. Slitting his eyes open, he gazed at Blaise’s serene face and smiled when the boy smirked at him. 

“If formal dueling training is what you desire Harry, then I can make that happen for you?”

That surprised the Gryffindor. Harry pushed himself up on one arm, “What?” 

Blaise sat up fully. “I can help you with dueling. My uncle has recently received a mastery in dueling, and I’m not too shabby. He’s taught me a lot over the years, and I can teach you some. Maybe you can even meet with him. The winter holidays aren’t too far away. I’m sure I can convince him to visit the Isles for a short time.”

Harry gaped, “Do you know what you’re saying?” 

Blaise nodded.

“This is going well beyond neutrality; you’ll be actively helping me defeat Voldemort. Do you understand the implications of that decision? Your mother might not-”

Blaise narrowed his eyes and interrupted, “Of course I am well aware Harry. I’m not daft. I want to help you…if you will let me.” _I’ve hardly stood a chance of leaving you on your own since I met you_ , he thought to himself with a tiny smile.

Harry slid over and lunged at his bedmate. He didn’t respond, but he figured Blaise already knew what his answer was. It felt so good to have someone in his corner again. After Sirius fell through the veil, Harry had felt so alone. He never realized how much he depended on just the thought of Sirius, knowing that his Godfather was out there and would fly to his rescue, no matter what. Harry never noticed how much it bolstered him to have that unconditional love and support. Sirius never doubted him or his instincts; he encouraged him, and he never belittled him. Most importantly, he wanted Harry. From the very beginning, he’d wanted to take Harry home with him in third year to raise him like a real wizard should be raised. He reminded Harry that he didn’t have to do everything on his own, and that sometimes it was okay to just be a kid and turn people’s hair purple for no good reason at all.

Harry knew that Blaise’s regard for him was nothing like Sirius’ and that the boy probably wouldn’t go hexing people’s hair blue and orange anytime soon, but Harry felt that he could depend on the Slytherin. They’d only been attached for a short time, but he hadn’t forsaken Harry. He hadn’t betrayed his trust or blamed Harry for their predicament. Things just kept piling up: their spell mishap, Sirius’ problem, animagus transformation training, and now this. Blaise took it all in stride, balancing the weight on both of their shoulders. Harry was awed by him, and so very grateful.

Blaise just laid back, stunned, with his arms still wrapped around the thin Gryffindor. _He should eat more_. He thought idly. Harry was very affectionate although the Gryffindor didn’t have many chances to express it. Blaise surmised that was why he was so cuddly in his sleep at night. Blaise realized this, but he never imagined that Harry would hug him so tightly or so openly and spontaneously. It seemed like such a small favor to the Slytherin, but he could tell that his offer meant a lot more to Harry.

\---:::---

Tuesday morning, Draco stormed through the Slytherin common room in a rage with a dangerous scowl on his face. Once again Blaise had not returned to dorms, and Draco just knew that he was with that twit, Potter. If it were anyone else, then he honestly wouldn’t care, but Potter was short and whiny, and he was going to get his best friend killed. Why couldn't Blaise see that?

Malfoy threw open the doors to the Great Hall and stormed in without a care for the gawking students or the professors that eyed him suspiciously from the head table. He scanned the hall briefly, noting that Blaise wasn’t at the Slytherin table, but Potter was present at his. He marched over there, his eyes never leaving the back of Potter’s head. It seemed as if he was the only person who’d only glanced his way for a second before returning to his meal. That just angered Draco further.

“Where is he,” Draco sneered, grabbing Potter by the shoulder and yanking him around. 

Harry nearly fell from his seat and focused on maintaining his balance in lieu of confronting Malfoy. He couldn’t get any purchase on the smooth wooden table though, and only an invisible hand on the small of his back saved him from tipping backwards onto the floor which must have been Malfoy’s intention from the beginning. 

“Where is who,” Granger said with a scowl from her seat beside Harry, always butting in when she wasn’t needed, ignoring Harry’s predicament. 

“Hey, what’s your problem Malfoy!” Ron yelled, standing up and by the looks of him preparing to launch himself across the table.

“Call off your dogs, Potter. This is between me and you.” 

“That is quite enough,” McGonagall said, stepping up to Malfoy and looking down at Harry who still hadn’t had a chance to stand from his seat. “You two will behave yourselves in this hall or you will see Filch and then me in a double detention with a loss of house points to you both. Do you understand me?” She looked at them both sternly, waiting patiently until she received twin nods from the both of them. “Now, Mr. Malfoy I suggest that you return to your house table and enjoy your breakfast. Classes will be beginning soon.” 

Draco sneered at Harry with an expression that clearly said that they weren’t done yet. Harry recognized that stubborn look on his face. Blaise would miraculously turn up after breakfast to attend class, but Harry knew very well that his reappearance wouldn’t quell Malfoy’s ire.

“What was that all about,” Hermione asked Harry.

“I don’t know,” he lied, adding more food to his plate. At least the commotion had allowed him to drop a couple of biscuits and sausage onto his lap which Blaise surreptitiously snagged for himself. Harry took a deep breath and ignored the fission of heat that slid down his back to pool in his stomach each time Blaise’s fingers accidentally grazed his crotch. That damn boy was going to make him a nervous wreck which was the last thing he needed with Snape’s class first thing in the morning and Malfoy out for his blood.

“Well, it ‘eems rike da ‘erret is ‘ack to,” Ron swallowed, “normal.”

“Ronald! I’ve told you repeatedly to chew _and_ swallow before you speak. You’re a pig!”

Harry sighed, _And just like that they’ve already forgotten that Malfoy wants to kill me._ “I’m going to go on ahead guys.”

“What?” Ron turned to him. Harry looked like he’d finally gotten his appetite back, eating two helpings this morning, but now he wanted to leave breakfast early. Ron just couldn’t understand him. It was like he had an aversion to warm food or something. “We still have thirty minutes until class starts.” 

Harry responded as he stood, “Yes, but I don’t want to give Snape any more reasons to dock points or attack me in class. Malfoy is already trying to bite my head off which is enough reason for Snape to start in on me. I don’t want to be late in addition to that, and I need to return a book to the library.” 

Hermione nodded, “That’s wonderful Harry. You really have turned things around this year. I’m so proud of you.” 

Harry rolled his eyes. “Oh, shove off Hermione.” His eyes widened as he realized that he’d actually said that out loud. Ron was gaping, as usual, and Hermione was stunned, but Harry could tell that she was working herself up, preparing for a lecture. Harry just bent down and grabbed his bag before he stalked out of the hall. He wasn’t taking it back; she needed to back off; Ron could continue to take that from her, but Harry wouldn’t. She wasn’t his mother.

Blaise smirked and tugged the invisibility cloak off before shoving it in his bag. Harry just smiled and helped Blaise situate the valuable heirloom in the bag. He trusted Blaise with it, and besides it’s not like the boy could run away with it. 

“Nice one, Harry. I’m glad I was there for that. You should have seen her face. In fact, you should have seen yours. You looked as surprised as she was,” he laughed.

Harry smiled up at him, “Yes, well I didn’t expect to say that, but it was a long time coming.” 

Blaise opened his mouth to speak but was summarily interrupted.

“Potter! I’m not done with you,” Draco yelled, rounding the corner. He stopped abruptly when he saw Blaise hovering over Harry, only inches from touching the Gryffindor.

“Draco,” Blaise began.

“Don’t Draco me,” he spat. What the hell is going on? Where were you, and don’t give me nonsense about working on your project because I can tell you right now I’m not buying it.” He hated airing their business outside of the common room, but, hell, Blaise was hardly there anymore, so Draco had to snag him while he had the chance.

Harry looked around; they were drawing a crowd, and he knew from experience that that meant they would soon be drawing professors to the scene too. 

“Why don’t we take this somewhere else,” Harry suggested as the two Slytherins stared each other down.

“Why don’t you shut up,” Draco hissed, turning on Harry.

“No,” Blaise said intervening as Harry began to get angry as well. Draco was pushing it. He might not always be assertive with his friends, although it looked like that might be changing, but it’d be a cold day in hell before he took shit from Malfoy. The blonde was still a spoiled git. Harry wanted to get along with him for Blaise’s sake, but Malfoy was still Malfoy, and Harry was still Harry. There was only so much the Gryffindor could take from his rival. “Harry’s right; we need to discuss this at a more opportune time. During our free period, I will meet you in the Room of Requirement, and we can talk there,” the Italian suggested quietly, keeping their business away from their nosy classmates.

Draco didn’t bother to answer. He simple stomped past the both of them towards Snape’s defense classroom.

Harry sighed, “That conversation is going to be awkward.” 

Blaise turned Harry towards their destination and placed his hand on the small of Harry’s back. “Yes, but it is necessary. Draco isn’t very patient, and believe it or not he’s just worried about me.” 

“I believe it,” Harry smiled up at him. “You have an uncanny way of making people become attached to you. Malfoy doesn’t want to lose you as a friend, and,” Harry said turning away from Blaise and speaking quieter, “people around me do tend to meet misfortune more often than your average person.” 

Blaise shrugged, “I’m sturdier than either of you want to admit,” he reassured the Gryffindor. 

Harry only shook his head, “You mean more stubborn.” 

Blaise chuckled, “Yes, that too.”

\---:::---

“Spill it,” Draco deadpanned as soon as he and Blaise entered the Room of Requirement.

Blaise had yet to settle in the armchair conjured by the room before the interrogation began.

“What do you want to know?” Blaise asked.

“What's going on with you and Potter, obviously,” he said. 

Blaise sighed. He didn’t know how to begin that conversation. He’d already discussed explaining their situation to Draco with Harry, but that didn’t mean he knew how to go about it. His prolonged silence really bothered Draco.

The boy seemed to deflate in his chair. “You don’t want to tell me. You don’t tell me anything anymore. It’s like Potter is all you care about.” He sounded so pained.

Harry clenched Blaise’s leg from his spot on the floor. _Just spill it already._ He urged in his mind. 

Blaise began, “No, it’s not. I still care about you. We’re best friends.”

“It doesn’t seem like it,” Draco said, throwing his head back to lie on the back of the seat as he often did. He looked up at the nondescript ceiling and sighed. 

“It’s complicated,” Blaise began. 

Draco snorted, _You don’t know complicated_ , he thought. The silence continued. 

“Are you fucking Potter,” he asked bluntly. 

Harry nearly gasped out loud, and Blaise went still in his chair. He couldn’t lie and say that he hadn’t thought of things like that about Harry, but, “No, I am not.”

“Then what is it?” Draco asked, picking his head up and pinning Blaise with his gaze. “What does he have you doing every night that you have to come back so late or not at all? Is it something dangerous? Blaise he’s going to get you kill-” 

Blaise interrupted him quickly. He didn’t need anyone else solidifying those negative thoughts in Harry’s head. “It’s nothing more dangerous than what you’re doing.” 

Draco stilled instantly and narrowed his eyes. “You don’t understand that, so don’t talk about it like you do.” 

“Then make me understand, Draco.” Blaise implored. “Tell me what you’re up to. I told you before that I want to help you, Dray.” 

Draco gritted his teeth. He wanted to confide in Blaise, but he was unsure how. He was told to murder someone. That’s not something you discuss over tea, and he didn’t want to drag Blaise into this. The cursed necklace was ready, and he only needed to wait until this weekend to get it to Dumbledore. Then, all of this would be over. Draco swallowed and disguised a shiver by shifting in his seat and crossing his legs. Every time he thought of his mission he wanted to vomit. 

“Look, I can’t,” he finally murmured.

Blaise narrowed his eyes and huffed, sitting back in his seat. 

Harry stood; he’d had enough of them going back and forth in an endless circle. He walked behind Blaise’s chair and placed his hand on the Slytherin’s shoulder before moving to stand to the left of his chair, facing Draco.

Blaise stood with alacrity and turned to the seemingly empty space beside him with a quizzical look on his face. He had no idea what Harry was planning, but never in a million years would he have guessed that the boy would pull his invisibility cloak from his shoulders and wave to his best friend.

“Hello Draco.”

\---:::---

It didn’t surprise Blaise at all when Draco leaped from his chair and drew his wand, hurling curses and accusations at Harry immediately.

“What have you done to Blaise? Confundus? Imperio?” 

Harry threw up quick successive protego totalum incantations, shielding both Blaise and himself before the Room’s décor changed drastically. Hundreds of large waist high pillars with four foot tall busts of goblins perched on top sprung from the floor and scattered around the room, providing cover for the dueling wizards. Blaise and Harry ducked behind two pillars while Draco sent spell after spell at them. 

Blaise arched an eyebrow as he ducked a flying piece of marble. _Goblins?_ he mouthed. 

Harry shrugged. He thought of cover from the spells and immediately saw pillars of statues, then while he was trying to think of what the statute might look like, Gubakz the Greatshadow popped into his head. By the time he shook the blood-thirsty image from his mind the pillars were rising. Glancing up at the statues' hideous, snarling expressions Harry felt that they kind of fit the mood. 

“Come out you fucking coward and release Blaise from the spell you have him under!” Draco shouted.

“He’s not under a spell…Well, not really,” Harry winced, guessing that their being stuck together definitely counted as a spell. 

“Let me try to calm him down,” Blaise said, preparing to stand up.

“No,” Harry said, shaking his head. “Draco and I need to work this out. There will just be lingering tension between us if you do it, and I know you don’t want that,” he grimaced at a spell whizzed past his head, just in front of his nose. “Keep close,” Harry admonished before he stood and launched his counterattack. 

Blaise stood and watched as Harry ad Draco exchanged a volley of spells, no longer speaking. Factoring in his lack of formal training Harry could be considered exceptional, but the lack of training showed, and Draco was pushing Harry back with more dangerous and vicious spells. Draco took a surprisingly well aimed hex from Harry that sent him flying, and Blaise could see Draco’s restraint snap. 

The Italian had been staying within their twenty feet boundary, having to move and dodge spells himself as he couldn’t move far enough away from Harry to escape all of the danger. He was beyond thankful that he was close to his charms partner when he saw Draco begin the wand movements for sectumsempra. 

“Bombarda!” He exclaimed, stepping between the two of them and shielding Harry with his body as he blasted Draco backwards several feet, making the blonde crash into several pillars despite the hasty shield the Slytherin conjured. The expression on Blaise’s face was thunderous. He was completely incensed. “Have you lost your mind Draco,” he hissed. Beneath his anger was intense fear. Blaise spun around and grabbed Harry’s forearms, checking him over for any permanent damage. He knew that Harry hadn’t sustained any real damage in the duel, but the adrenalin and fear pulsing through his veins was palpable, and he had to check for himself that Harry was okay. 

“Are you okay, Harry?”

Harry was stunned by Blaise’s interference. At first, he’d been irritated; he wanted to settle this with Draco himself, but he couldn’t be angry with the Slytherin when he had such concern in his eyes. Blaise was outraged on his behalf, and the magnitude of his emotions astounded Harry, especially because Blaise was usually rather playful, but still very self-controlled.

The moment Blaise saw Draco beginning that spell, his feelings and desire for Harry solidified, and he realized that he couldn’t allow any harm to come to the Gryffindor. He wanted Harry, wanted him for himself, to protect and spoil and l-

“Urg,” Draco groaned and stood up shakily from the debris around him. 

“Draco,” Harry addressed the disheveled Slytherin and slid around Blaise to speak to him directly. “We need to stop this. Fighting each other isn’t going to get us anywhere, and we have a common enemy. We should be fighting him, not each other.” 

Draco stopped glaring at Blaise over the Gryffindor’s shoulder and sneered at Harry, “Oh and who might that be?” 

“You know as well as I do. He’s threatening your parents, living in your home, and you’re terrified of him, but you’ll do anything to protect your family.”

Draco scowled, “You don’t know anything.” 

“I know enough, enough to help you,” Harry said, not lowering his wand, but relaxing his stance.

Draco scoffed, “Will you help my Death Eater father too?”

Harry didn’t blink, “Yes, if he wants it.”

“You think you can help me, Potter?” Draco spat, enraged. For a second, he’d had hope until he came to his senses. The audacity of the boy, he could barely hold his own against him, how the hell did he think he stood a chance against the Dark Lord?

Blaise stepped forward. “I know what you’re thinking Draco,” he said softly in the tone he might use with a startled Thestral, “but Harry has untapped potential that you haven’t seen. I wasn’t exaggerating when I said that he is remarkable. He’s just untrained as of yet, and I will be helping him.”

Draco sneered but relaxed a little at the determined expression on Harry’s face and the confidence in his best friend’s voice. _Blaise isn’t neutral anymore. Well, that changes things_. He was still unbelievably angry, but he knew he’d get over it. If their situations were reversed – he eyed Harry and snorted _as if…I would never be enamored with the boy wonder_ – he would have kept that a secret too. Also, he was keeping secrets of his own as well, so how could he really fault his friend. But, just because he understood did not mean that he wouldn’t give Blaise a hard time for it for a couple of days.

Blaise smirked and completely lowered his wand. He saw the stress lines disappear on Draco’s face and could nearly read the boy’s mind. Maybe he’d spend the next few days in Harry’s dorm to escape Draco’s wrath. The boy could be quite vindictive at times. 

Draco turned to Harry, “You promise to help me,” he asked hesitantly.

Harry nodded.

“My parents too, even my father?” he asked again, seriously this time. He had to be sure.

“Yes,” Harry assured him. “I don’t know your father’s entire situation, and I can’t guarantee you that he won’t be tried by the Wizengamot after the war is over, considering his past crimes, but if he’s seeking sanctuary then the Potter and Black lines will grant it, and I will do my utmost to protect your entire family from both Voldemort and the Ministry once this over,” Harry held up a hand when Draco went to speak a bewildered expression on his face, “provided that he has truly turned over a new leaf and helps with the war effort. There will probably be a probationary period too, but that’s not up to me.” 

Draco nodded and then frowned, “Do you understand, Potter, what you’re offering and what it entails?” 

Harry nodded, and the room changed again back to the comfortable sitting room with the two wing back chairs and the couch and coffee table that Harry and Blaise often used when studying in the Room of Requirement.

Harry smiled up at the Italian, a little fatigued. “Thanks.”

If Draco’s limp was anything to go by, Harry would say that he was grateful for the seats as well. Blaise didn’t hold back when he’d cursed his friend.

Blaise nodded to Harry with a slight smile and directed him to the couch where they both took a seat, Draco directly across from them. 

“I’m offering you sanctuary,” Harry repeated. “That means that I am responsible for your safety and that of your parents. My protection extends to each of you as does my rule until such a time as you no longer need my protection. If you or your mother and father break my rules or the law as dictated by the Wizengamot, then you are all subject to punishment dictated by me. All of your properties and holdings come under my jurisdiction to help with your protection, but” Harry interjected quickly when Draco sought to interrupt. “But, I will immediately release all of it back to you and your family to do with as you please as long as you still abide by my rules which we can detail later if you decide to accept sanctuary from me. I’d rather not give you rules at all, but for the magical protection to extend to you this is what the contract dictates. Do not worry,” Harry sighed. “I have no desire to abuse my power or make you all subservient to me. I don’t have time for your griping if I did that,” Harry teased cautiously. When Draco didn’t immediately send him a scathing remark Harry figured that he was really coming around or he was just too stunned to respond, either scenario was progress in Harry’s opinion. 

“Honestly,” he continued offhandedly, “the fact that the contract was modeled after a king and his vassals is really outdated.” 

Harry had once against surprised a Malfoy because Draco was gobsmacked by how familiar Harry was with this particular wizarding law. It was ancient and few knew the details of it because so few actually used it anymore. 

After a few minutes of contemplation, Draco smirked, “You will enrage a great many people, Potter, when they find out, and they will find out.” 

Harry smiled, “What else is new? How can I possibly go through a single year without some sort of scandal?”

Blaise chuckled and ran his hand through Harry’s sweaty hair, sweeping it away from his eyes and rubbing his thumb lightly over a cut near his hair line, “Your name has been out of the papers for a while now.” 

Harry leaned into his touch and sighed. “It was nice while it lasted.” 

Blaise laughed again, and Draco simply watched the interaction between them. That same level of ease they’d had around each other when they were in the library on Sunday was present, but now there was a level of intimacy between them that wasn’t there before. He doubted that they realized it yet…well maybe Blaise did judging from the look in his eyes, but Draco wasn’t so sure about Harry. 

“So, why, exactly, were you in here in the first place, Potter?” Draco asked, reclaiming their attention.

Blaise frowned slightly and dropped his hand, “We never did get to that, did we?”

Harry shook his head and laughed heartily.

\---:::---

**A/N: Read and review please guys. This is one of fave chapters, so I’m excited to see what you all thought about it.**


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Blaise, Harry, and Draco were sitting in the Room of Requirement much more comfortably as they settled in to answer Draco’s remaining questions. Unwittingly, they’d fought through their final class of the day, so they decided to remain in the room to iron out the last minor details. Harry asked Dobby for tea and sandwiches an hour ago. After their short repast, they all relaxed a little.

“We can’t tell you everything because it would ruin the surprise of our charms project, but suffice it to say that due to some of our experimentation we’re stuck together,” Harry explained adroitly in response to Draco’s most recent question. 

He blushed when Blaise winked at him and draped his arm on the couch behind Harry’s head.

“You’re kidding right?” Draco asked, one eyebrow lifting high on his head. 

At their twin negative shakes, Malfoy stood up and walked over the couch they were sharing to stand before them. 

Harry frowned a little as Draco removed Blaise’s arm from the back of the couch and worked his way in between himself and Blaise. 

“Well you’re not so stuck now, and you weren’t stuck together while we were dueling,” Draco pointed out skeptically. 

“Not literally stuck together,” Blaise decided to explain further. “We must remain within twenty feet of each other, or we will experience debilitating pain. We do not know what will happen if we remain separated for an extended amount of time as we have yet to test that. The pain really is quite unbearable.”

Harry nodded, “We had no inclination to push the boundaries of the spell further.”

“What spell,” Draco asked, intrigued now. It was unusual for Blaise to admit any sort of weakness especially ‘debilitating pain.’ The spell must be something serious if he was experiencing pain that couldn’t be hidden. On the other hand, it spoke to his trust in Draco that he’d admitted that much in the first place, and Draco instantly felt more secure in their friendship by the lack of hesitation in his confession.

Harry sighed and that sweet pout adorned his face again, “That’s just it. We don’t know; we sort of created it by accident, and we haven’t had the time to try to create a counter-curse. Honestly, I don’t even know where to start. Being stuck together is starting to become difficult as well. Because we have to remain near each other, we’ve had to share each other’s dormitories at night, alternating between the tower and the dungeons, and you can see by your fit it is becoming unfeasible.”

“Fit,” Draco snorted. “Malfoys do not have fits.” 

Blaise chuckled and Harry merely rolled his eyes. 

“In any case,” Blaise sobered, “we cannot remain as we are, so we are going to ask Professor Snape for help.” 

Draco really laughed then, “You’re going to ask my godfather to help you with this?”

“This, among other things yes,” Blaise answered, “Why is that funny?” 

“Because Uncle Sev hates Potter, for one, and you should have known better,” Draco answered his friend swiftly, still snickering.

Harry frowned, “Well, he’ll just have to get over it because we don’t have anyone else to ask at the moment.”

Sobering, Draco looked at Potter, relaxing between the two and showing that he wasn’t planning on moving anytime soon. 

Harry noted his behavior and couldn’t help but feel uncomfortable. He and Draco, despite their new truce, couldn’t be considered friends by any stretch of the imagination, and the Slytherin was practically sitting on his thigh. Harry shifting slightly to his left and eyed Malfoy critically. 

Draco smirked at his unease and broke the silence, “What are you trying to pull Potter? We know you’re the Headmaster’s golden boy. You could easily ask him, and I think you’d be better for it.”

“Harry and Dumbledore are at odds at the moment,” Blaise interjected lightly, drawing Draco’s attention with a smirk. “And beyond that, we need a little help with another project of ours for which Professor Snape’s expertise is critical.”

Draco knew immediately that Blaise wasn’t referring to their charm’s project and as a result was instantly curious, but, glancing between Blaise and Potter, he realized that neither was inclined to elaborate further. _So much for deep trust_ , Draco thought. He sighed heavily and leaned back into the couch cushions for a second. An expression of deep contemplation crossed his face; he reckoned that Potter wouldn’t be completely open and honest with him until he did the same in return. Moreover, the secrets Blaise was guarding were more than likely Potter’s, and Draco knew from experience that Blaise never broke anyone’s confidence lightly. 

The silence between them was becoming very tense before Malfoy spoke, standing to face both boys at once. 

“If I share my secret with you,” he began, addressing Harry, “you will be honest with me?” 

Harry hesitated and considered the seemingly innocuous suggestion. With anyone else Harry might not have vacillated at all, but this was Sirius’ life in the balance here, and Draco had yet to fully commit himself and his loyalty to Harry and the sanctuary contract. Luckily, he didn’t have to make that decision.

“I think that for now we should focus on our most pressing issues,” Blaise interrupted, sliding closer to Harry and closing the gap created by his unpredictable best friend. 

Draco arched an eyebrow, “And those would be?”

He gestured between himself and Harry, “Fixing our situation and moving ahead with providing sanctuary for your family. We do not know what task the Dark Lord has given you as you have yet to inform us, but that is of little importance in the grand scheme of things as you have requested sanctuary from Harry which means that you will no longer follow orders from the Dark Lord, correct?” 

Draco eyed them critically before nodding. He had no real desire to tell either Harry or Blaise of his task and the hopelessness and shame he’d felt while trying to do the Dark Lord’s bidding.

“Informing your parents and taking safety measures for them is our first step before extending sanctuary to you, and I imagine that is going to be a very delicate and trying process, considering your father’s antipathy towards me,” Harry said. “We must secure their safety before the winter holidays as I suspect that Voldemort will want reports of your success or progress if you return home, and we have already decided that you will not return home. That of course will alert Voldemort to your family’s disloyalty if he isn’t aware before then.”

Both on the couch courteously ignored Draco’s involuntary twitch when Harry said his name. Moving quickly beyond his discomfort, Draco sighed. Potter was correct, convincing his parents to put their faith in a scrawny Gryffindor younger than their son was going to be a herculean task, and he didn’t have time to pout over shared secrets between his best friend and rival, no matter how much it rankled. 

“Alright, I will at least accompany you to Uncle Sev’s quarters as he won’t be too thrilled to see either of you at the moment, especially you Potter. I can at least act as a buffer initially,” Draco offered, although he wasn’t sure why. 

Harry grinned at him, “I would appreciate that.” 

Draco looked away snootily. Harry had never smiled at him like that before, and Draco knew that it was just Potter’s gratitude, but the openness that could easily be misconstrued as fondness was disconcerting, considering that fact they had been bitter rivals only hours before. If that expression was what Blaise had to contend with on a daily basis it was no surprise that he was completely lost to the slight Gryffindor. Draco groaned out loud and bemoaned his fate.

\---:::---

Blaise looked around as he stepped between Draco on the right and Harry to his left just beyond the entrance to his Head of House’s personal quarters. They were surprisingly small, no larger than the Slytherin common room. There was no kitchen, bedroom, or potions lab in sight. How did the man live here without the basic amenities every wizard needs? If he weren’t the reasonable Slytherin he knew himself to be, this room might give credence, in his mind, to the rumors that Professor Snape was truly a vampire or dungeon bat.

Glancing towards Harry, he assumed that the boy was also entertaining the thought as he looked around the room unabashedly. 

Tiny as it was, the room was warm with an exceedingly large roaring hearth just in front of them. Before the fireplace was a black couch. On each side of the couch were matching loveseats. In front of the larger couch, a long coffee table was currently covered in parchment; most likely Snape was grading their defense papers. 

The stone dungeon floor was covered with plush dark carpet. Blaise assumed that the Professor enjoyed walking around barefoot in his personal quarters. There was a bookcase in the far left corner beside the main entrance. A counter ran the length of the wall beside Draco on the right side of the front door. The top was organized neatly with many potion vials, some empty and some full. Blaise noticed calming draughts, dreamless sleep, and pepper-up amongst the many vials. There were locked cabinets above and below the counter. 

Additionally, there were two other doors in the room. They were separated by the fireplace on the wall opposite the three teenagers. One, Blaise was sure led to the Professor’s office and classroom, and the other he would have assumed led to the rest of Severus’ quarters, but since the door was ajar he noticed that it was small bathroom. The layout of the quarters was baffling. The superior smirk that Draco directed towards Harry and Blaise easily revealed that the blonde knew the secret of the rooms. 

Blaise snorted and rolled his eyes fondly. Draco could be really petty at times. 

Just behind Harry was a coat hanger currently holding the Professor’s teaching robes among others. Noticing that, Blaise was more prepared than Harry when he noticed Severus sitting on the larger cough in solid back dress pants and a charcoal turtle neck sans shoes just as he’d predicted. 

Severus looked up expecting to see only his godson standing before him. Veiling his initial surprise and growing irritation, Severus uncrossed his socked feet and stood. 

“Draco,” Severus said evenly, turning to his godson, “what in the name of Salazar prompted you to allow these two into my private quarters?”

Draco bowed his head slightly, “I won’t take up much of your time Godfather although they might.”

Snape arched an eyebrow but remained silent to allow Draco adequate time to explain. Severus was nothing if not a patient, thorough man. In the interim, he waved his wand to move the pile of ungraded essays; they flew neatly through the room to settle on the end of the counter. 

“Blaise and Potter here have a sticky situation, and they require your assistance,” Draco snickered. “Somehow, while working on their charms project for Professor Flitwick, they’ve gotten stuck together.”

Severus couldn’t fully contain his disbelief and curiosity because he was looking at both boys in question and neither was touching the other. 

“Well, I’ll leave you guys to it,” Draco sang, “I have a letter to write.” 

Blaise sighed, _the beginning of Draco’s revenge for defending Potter. He couldn’t have waited a day_? 

Winking at Blaise, Draco pranced out and slammed the door for good measure. _Obviously not_ Blaise thought with an internal wince. Tugging Harry’s elbow, Blaise led them to one of the loveseats.

\---:::---

Severus pinched his nose and recited all of the ingredients for the Draught of the Living Death twice before his opened his in the hopes that the dunderheads before him would be gone. When he opened his eyes and they were not, he sighed heavily. This was going to a very trying evening.

“Would either of you care to explain how this predicament came about?” he drawled in his smooth baritone.

When neither of the boys began to speak, Severus quickly began to lose his hard fought for patience. “Zabini, talk!” he barked. 

He listened closely while Harry and Blaise detailed their magical mishap. 

Several minutes later, Severus’ head was pounding, and he was asking himself why is it always Potter. _More importantly, why is it always me?_

“I am not surprised by the pain you have described,” he began. “From what I can tell you two have created an exceedingly strong bond uniting your magical cores. Trying to separate would be akin to attempting to take your magic and leave it in your dormitory while you go to class all day. Not only would that be terribly painful, it’s nearly impossible and would change you on a fundamental level, the effects of which even I cannot predict.”

Severus smirked at the horror growing on the faces of the children before him, _serves them right for not being more careful_. He stood and moved to stand before his hearth and subtly rearranged the figures on his mantelpiece. Severus was well aware that his quarters appeared surprisingly small to any student who had the pleasure or displeasure of setting foot inside of it. That is because Severus, the sneaky bastard that he was, kept the rest of his quarters well hidden and warded to protect the few precious possessions he had that he couldn’t trust with the goblins. A different combination of the statues and candles atop his exceedingly large fireplace led to a different sector of his Hogwarts quarters. 

The boys watched with avid fascination as Severus’ burning hearth slid backwards and then to the left revealing what Harry could only describe as a replica of the Department of Mysteries’ revolving door chamber. Although he’d only glimpsed it for the short amount of time it took Severus to step inside and the hearth to slide back into its original place, Harry could only imagine the amount of spell work it must have taken for the man to craft quarters such as these. And, there were so many doors; he couldn’t imagine where they all led or how they were situated within the castle or if they were always in flux like the castle’s famous moving staircases, but on a much larger and complicated scale. 

Putting Severus’ genius out of his mind, Harry turned to his partner who despite the admiration he had for his Head of House after seeing such a display of magical mastery hadn’t moved an inch in his frozen state since Snape told them the ultimate repercussions of their mishap in the room of requirement. 

“Are you okay,” Harry asked haltingly. He could only imagine how Blaise must finally be regretting having been paired with him. The boy had fought it valiantly, but in light of their new circumstances he couldn’t fathom that Blaise wasn’t at least a little upset with him. Harry heaved a heavy sigh; more than anything else at that moment he realized just how dreadful it would be if Blaise came to loathe him. He’d drawn such confidence and comfort from him since the beginning of their acquaintance that Harry didn’t want to do without it. He knew that he could, but life would be horribly pale in comparison. 

“It can’t be that bad,” Harry said quietly, trying to reassure the Slytherin. “Surely, if this situation were irrevocable, then he would have immediately said so. I know that being stuck with me _like this_ isn’t ideal, and you have many things you want to do with your life, but-”

Blaise turned to him quickly and pinned him with an unfathomable gaze. Harry truly had no idea what was passing through his mind. “Is that what you think, that I’m upset because we are stuck together? Harry, I have told you repeatedly that it doesn’t bother me.” Blaise lifted his hand to Harry’s cheek and let it slide smoothly down to its normal position on the back of his neck, pulling the Gryffindor close to him. 

For many innumerable seconds, Harry sincerely thought that Blaise was going to kiss him. He wasn’t completely sure if he was relieved or disappointed when only their foreheads touched and Blaise smiled wickedly at him. 

“I have _absolutely_ no problems being close to you Harry,” Blaise said seriously, and Harry got the distinct feeling that Blaise wanted them to be even closer than they already were. The pixies that fluttered constantly in Harry’s stomach because of Blaise’s presence were whipped into a veritable frenzy by Blaise’s confession. 

Harry released a silent sigh as Blaise moved back to his original position, but the smirk, still prominent on his face, let Harry know that he was completely aware of the effect his actions had on the Gryffindor.

Taking a second to revel in the rosy blush on Harry’s face and the heaving of his chest, Blaise smiled inside. Harry was really sweet, and he was becoming more enamored every hour he spent with the boy. From Harry’s reactions to his teasing, Blaise was confident that Harry reciprocated at least a small portion of those feelings. Harry was so confident and spirited with others, but with Blaise he was very much the blushing virgin. After many moments of Harry’s self-conscious shifting, Blaise sobered. 

“I was surprised when the Professor informed us what had actually happened to us. I never would have imagined something like this,” he said. 

Harry relaxed and nodded, “Me either. I have a feeling that this process will require much more than a simple counter curse.”

“For once Potter, you are correct,” Snape’s voice cut through the room as the man emerged from his inner rooms. Reclaiming his original seat, Severus leaned forward and handed his students a well-worn book. The title was worn away, but Harry knew immediately that it was a dark book. He wasn’t fazed in the slightest. If it held the information they needed, then he couldn’t care less.

“There is no way to remove the bond without destroying the both of you. As that is not an option, we will have to teach your magical cores that it okay for your physical bodies to separate further than twenty feet. Now, partly because of the nature of the bond, the way it was created, and how recently it was created, the magic requires you to be physically near one another. Over time, this distance would naturally increase, but we cannot assume how far, and we certainly do not have the time wait and see how things develop.” Severus eyed them both seriously. 

“This is not a matter of reaching the limits of the bond, boys,” he said. “This is a matter of establishing them ourselves and assuring that those boundaries extend indefinitely in both distance and time. The boundaries must exist painlessly even if you were to separate and visit different parts of the world, and you must be able to survive without each other in close proximity for an infinite amount of time. Of course, that may not be the actual case, but those are the boundaries we must create. Other than that, I will have to examine you both more closely to establish the full extent of the magic. That will require an extensive amount of examination through spell work and a potion regiment. Since Draco already knows about this, I will have him assist me in brewing the potions for you. Be grateful,” he snapped. “I am a very busy man, and Draco has his own studies to attend to, but we must help you despite that.” 

Pointing to the book on Potter’s lap, he assumed his professorial tone and continued, “In that book, you will find the properties of many magical bonds which might shed some light on what we might expect as we begin to tamper with yours. I assure you that this will be painful at the best of times and excruciating as the worst of times. You will simply have to endure,” Severus assured them, crossing his legs at the ankle. 

“What can we do in the meantime Professor,” Blaise asked, stretching his arm behind Harry’s head along the length of couch, his hand reaching down to rub the seeker’s shoulder reassuringly. 

Thinking, Severus said, “In the meantime, you can bolster the magic of the bond.”

Blaise’s brows drew together in question, “Won’t that be a little counterproductive?”

Severus shook his head, retrieving the book from Potter, flipping through searching for a specific passage. “No, in fact, it could be immensely helpful. Part of the reason the bond is insisting on such a distance between the two of you is because the magic wants to be sure that the bond will not be broken. If you can reassure the bond it will make the magic more malleable when we begin to alter the properties. Clearly the inherent magic creating this bond is the modified accio charm you two created, so the nature of the bond is literally pulling you together. To combat that we must focus on the second aspect of the magic which is inherent in every bond.”

Harry was completely out of his depth. They had yet to study bonding in class, and he didn’t have any previous knowledge to draw from. “What would that be?”

Snape passed the book back to them. 

The chapter title read, _Intimacy and Consummation_

“You need not go as far as consummating the bond,” Snape said, smirking as Harry paled for the second time in an hour. “But, increased touching between the two of you platonic or otherwise will signal a dedicated commitment to remain together, in some capacity, which will calm the raging magic fueling the bond.”

Harry gulped at the implications, “Right.”

Blaise nodded; it made sense to him, “We have already been sharing a bed.”

“Blaise!” Harry shrieked, swatting at the Slytherin and then turning to Snape, horrified. He could only imagine what the man before them was thinking. 

“It’s not what you thi-”

Severus held up a hand and grimaced, “I don’t care one way or another, and I certainly do not want to hear about it as long as you are taking the necessary precautions,” he stressed. _Dear Merlin, all I would need to hear is that Potter was up the duff to kill me instantly_.

Harry was completely mortified and his face was burning. Blaise could feel the heat against his hand, but he merely smirked as he whispered and teased the Gryffindor. 

Clearing his throat to reclaim their attention, Severus began again. The sooner he could get them out of his quarters, the sooner he could have a finger or two of fire whiskey and return to his grading. Undoubtedly, some poor Hufflepuff would cry from the scathing remarks sure to grace their essay. “In any case, you might find that the distance you can separate has already increased or the pain you feel upon reaching the threshold has diminished. Soon, we will test it to establish a new baseline, but not tonight. It is nearing dinner time, and I have other things to do. You have managed thus far; another night will not change anything, I daresay.” 

“Yes, Professor,” Blaise said, standing to exit his professor’s quarters.

“Yes, sir...and thank you Professor,” Harry said sincerely.

Severus sighed in resignation, “There is no need for your gratitude Potter. After your first year as a Hogwarts’ student, I have prepared myself for any number of catastrophes you might fall prey to in which I would have to intercede on your behalf. Trust me when I say that this,” he gestured vaguely between Harry and Blaise, “is not the worse I have imagined. Although, I will admit that it is the most unlikely.”

Harry frowned and tilted his head in thought. “Am I really that bad Professor? Honestly, I do not seek out these things, and I don’t mean to make things difficult for you,” Harry confessed. He had yet to apologize to Snape a second time for invading his privacy the previous year. While he needed to do that, he felt that the cantankerous professor would again rebuff his attempts if he felt that they were insincere. As such, Harry knew that he needed to take baby steps with the professor, beginning by getting the man to simply tolerate his presence. 

Professor Snape, albeit mean, was open and honest with Harry, and he was dependable, stable in Harry’s life like no one else, even Sirius, had ever been. Harry was beginning to feel immensely grateful to the man as he sat there thumbing through his dark arts book searching for the simplest way to aid Harry in his most recent quandary. For all of his dislike for the Gryffindor, Snape was always there for the boy wonder, never leaving him to drown in the deep end after Dumbledore or Voldemort had summarily thrust him in. 

Severus was surprised that Potter didn’t immediately jump to his own defense and begin to make a complete dunderhead of himself. It seemed that Blaise’s time spent with the boy was yielding more results than one. It had been quite some time since he’d spent any substantial amount of time reading the book now in his hands. It would be a good idea to refresh himself on its contents in case he’d missed something that might help with separate the two boys. He sighed lightly. It was going to be a long night; he was absolutely sure of that. 

“You have no idea,” Severus drawled in his deep baritone, deciding to answer Harry’s question while still focusing on the tome in his lap. “What I am unsure of is why you two are still here when you have already been dismissed,” he said, finally looking up to see Potter still in his seat with Blaise standing vigil over his shoulder. 

Harry cleared his throat and began to shift uncomfortably. He was nervous. _That_ Severus noticed instantly, and he was leery of what might agitate the boy further when he was doing nothing to purposely discomfit him. 

“Do you require something more Potter?” His patience was quickly evaporating. Severus watched as the boy reached into his robe pockets; the man scowled when a familiar reflective glass reached his eyes. 

“Sir,” Harry began cautiously. He knew that Snape loathed his godfather, more than even his father. The man had absolutely no incentive to help them with this task, and he had no idea how he might respond to this final request. Sirius’ revival wasn’t at all integral to the end of this war, and as Harry figured that was the only reason the potions master was actually helping them he didn’t have much hope. But, he was a Gryffindor, and he wasn’t too afraid to ask even if he was only counting on Sirius’ assurances that Snape would help them. “My godfather isn’t dead, and I would like your help to retrieve him.” 

Snape’s eyes widened infinitesimally and Blaise groaned quietly behind Harry. Even Harry winced. 

“That was not very eloquent,” Blaise whispered into his ear. 

Harry sat rigidly and did his very best to remain still. The last thing he needed was to blush and shiver from Blaise’s warm voice caressing his ear. However tolerant Snape was of their continued presence and requests, Harry doubted very much that the man would endure teenage hormones pervading his living space.

Speaking slowly, “How do you know he’s alive, Potter. I was informed that he fell beyond the veil in the Department of Mysteries,” Severus asked tonelessly, giving away nothing of his inner thoughts. 

“I-we’ve seen the Black tapestry, and Sirius’ name is still on it, stating him as a living member.”

Snape sat back and considered that information. “You were declared as his heir by the goblins were you not?” 

Harry nodded. “They believed him to be dead as does everyone else,” he paused. “No one has presented any information refuting that assumption, so I was appointed as his heir and given control of the Black estate, but it is only temporary. Once my godfather returns, I will relinquish my claim on the estate until I can inherit properly, or if Sirius eventually sires children I will relinquish all rights.”

Both Slytherins were astonished. Harry wasn’t required by law to do that. Sirius would have to disinherit Harry himself, and they both knew that the man would never take something from his godson after he’d gifted it to him, even if it was his entire estate and holdings. 

Harry smiled sheepishly, “I haven’t told him that though, but it only seems fair. I have the Potter inheritance whatever that might entail. I’m not sure, but if there is a legitimate Black heir with a stronger claim than me and Sirius acknowledges them, then I won’t deprive them of their inheritance. They’re entitled to it after all, and I would be right pissed if someone took mine from me.”

Blaise snorted and reclaimed his seat beside his Gryffindor. Despite his recent changes, he was still a noble Gryffindor at heart, and Blaise couldn’t help but admire him more for that quality. In any case, it seemed as if Professor Snape was at least considering Harry’s request, so it seemed like they would be there for a little longer yet. 

Recovering Severus asked, “Is this the only proof you have? I can hardly believe that the mutt is still living based solely on an ancient tapestry.”

Blaise nodded. He could understand his Head of House’s skepticism. The tapestry’s magic could be faulty or have deteriorated over the years it sat in the house without any new magic stimulating the items in the house. 

“You had better show him Harry,” Blaise said, turning to him with a small smile. 

“Right,” Harry exhaled nervously. He was desperate for Snape’s help, and with his luck he was worried that Sirius might not answer. He hadn’t contacted his godfather in about three days. They had decided that Sirius should try to conserve his energy for the meeting, so he could speak for more than ten minutes at a time. 

“Sirius,” Harry called in an unwavering voice, directing his magic towards the mirror in his hand. 

Snape narrowed his eyes as the mirror in Potter’s hand began to hum with magic. As he thought, it was indeed one of Potter and Black’s confounded two-way mirrors, but it was impossible that-

“Harry!” 

Snape recoiled as heard Black’s voice. 

Harry slumped in relief, “Hi Siri, we’re in Snape’s quarters. He’s considering helping you. Can you speak with him?”

“Of course Harry, but first how are you?”

Harry smiled happily down at Sirius’ grinning face, “I’m great Padfoot. Sorry, it’s been so long since I last called. We were going to do this yesterday, but we were held up.”

“We?” Sirius asked. He knew that Harry was talking about the Zabini boy that he frequently spoke of when he contacted him, but Sirius felt it was time he met the young man spending so much time with his godson. It seemed that the two were attached at the hip with how much time they spent together, and from what Sirius had gathered, the boy was a Slytherin. Apparently, Harry had inherited more than his verdant eyes from his mother. 

Harry nodded and turned the mirror, so that Sirius could see Blaise. “Sirius, this is Blaise Zabini. Blaise, this is my godfather, Sirius. Blaise is my close friend Sirius.”

Sirius didn’t blink as he looked at the indulgent expression on Blaise’s face. He’d seen that expression many times on many different people, and he was certainly not the type to beat around the bush. “What are your intentions towards my godson,” he asked abruptly. 

“Sirius!” Harry exclaimed, mortified. 

Blaise chuckled lowly, “I assure you they are completely honorable.” 

The breath caught in Harry’s throat, trapped there by the pounding of his heart as it lodged itself in his esophagus. _He’s not suggesting what I think he is_. Harry tried to assure himself, but no matter how many times he repeated that phrase he couldn’t help but acknowledge the significance of Blaise’s statement. 

“Hmpf, we will see,” Sirius said. Deciding to drop the topic he turned back to his thoroughly embarrassed godson. “Now, Harry where is Sni-Snape?”

Severus arched an eyebrow as Black refrained from insulting him, but decided to ignore it, holding his hand out to Harry. “I must say that I am displeased to see you Black. It seems that you continue to plague me even from beyond the veil,” Snape said snidely when the mirror was in his grasp.

Sirius’ barking laughter filled the room, “What can I say Snape? I do my utmost to please.” Seconds later he sobered. “My magic is limited here Snape, so let’s get to it. Can you help me out of here? You were one of the most gifted spell-castors’ in our year, second only to Lily in spell fabrication. With Harry and Zabini’s help, I’m hopeful that you can do something about this situation. It is dreadful here.”

Snape must have made a face, however subtle it was, at the mention of the Gryffindor’s help because Sirius was immediately up in arms. “Don’t even start Snivellus.”

 _Well, that was more like it_ Snape thought with a mental snort. 

“Harry is just as brilliant as his mother in spell fabrication, and-”

“Oh I know about their endeavours with spell creation,” Snape said cutting him off. “Do _you_ know the extent of it?”

Met only with Sirius’ silent glare, he assumed that the mutt didn’t, in fact, know about the failed experiments, but he didn’t care to inform him about it. Harry could do that when he felt like it. Sirius was behaving relatively well, given the circumstances, and Severus didn’t want to risk that by worrying the man needlessly. A raving Black was all he needed to push his headache to new, unprecedented heights. 

“Whatever happened, with some formal training and a mentor, Harry will be great, so I don’t want you disparaging him outside of the potions lab,” Sirius growled.

Harry blushed slightly under Sirius’ praise. 

Snape merely rolled his eyes. “I wasn’t disparaging the brat, Mutt,” Severus could see Harry’s potential probably more plainly than anyone else because he saw Harry much more clearly than anyone else…well almost anyone else he thought flicking his eyes briefly to the Zabini heir sitting beside Potter. “Now, can we return to the issue at hand? What can you tell me about that place?” he inquired of Sirius.

Harry and Blaise remained quiet as the two men conferred with each other, bantering and bickering back and forth all the while. Harry would have been concerned if Sirius’ boisterous laughter wasn’t constantly erupting from the mirror in response to many of Snape’s scathing, albeit witty, remarks. 

“I need to rest,” Sirius finally said, “My stores are depleting, and I do not want to find out what will happen if I lapse into a magical coma in here.”

Severus nodded and returned the mirror back to Harry who promised to contact Sirius again after a couple of days. 

“We’ll keep you posted on our progress Siri,” Harry said quietly. He was as reluctant to end the connection as always. No matter how many times Blaise and Sirius tried to reassure him, Harry always worried that after he ended the call Sirius might disappear into nothingness, melting into the darkness Harry saw surrounding the man. Or worse, he’d wake up to realize that Sirius’ continued existence was only a dream. 

When the mirror went silent, Harry sighed heavily and unconsciously leaned closer to his partner. Snape ignored the action and asked for the mirror to be returned to him. He wanted to examine it further. 

Severus flipped the mirror over between his fingers searching for any outstanding characteristics. For all he could tell, it was an average two-way mirror, and unless his eyes and ears deceived him it shouldn’t be capable of the feat he’d just witnessed. He began to mumble to himself in deep thought. “Despite this, we still have no idea where Black is at the moment, and I daresay we won’t be able to figure it out anytime soon. There is no doubt that he is in another realm on another plane, normally inaccessible to-”

“There must be something we can do,” implored Harry. 

Snape scowled at the interruption and addressed the boys directly, “I am sure that we may be able to do something for the mutt. Calm yourself, Potter,” he admonished sternly. He would tolerate no hysterics this night. “This requires more thought and is possibly outside of my range of expertise,” he hated to admit. “Have you approached the Headmaster with this?”

Harry shook his head, “No, I do not trust him with Sirius’ well-being,” Harry bit out, quickly worked up into a simmering rage. “The Headmaster has not made good choices where Sirius’ life was concerned, and I refuse to subject my godfather to his _benevolence_ a third time.” 

Once again the boy surprised Snape. His smoldering anger towards Dumbledore was little surprise in itself, but his distrust of him was very nearly astounding. Severus wasn’t sure how to categorize it, but he was – for one reason or another – _pleased_ by that realization.

“Very well,” Snape nodded, returning the mirror to Harry. 

“You will help?” Harry confirmed earnestly. 

Snape nodded slowly, “But, I have conditions. First, you will return here every day after dinner to begin work on separating the two of you. Be prepared for extra detentions,” he smirked while Harry groaned and slumped further into the cushions. “Second, you two will not allow your marks to slip in class because you are preoccupied with these things. Third, you will defer to my every order for both of these _projects_ ,” he sneered. “I will tolerate no complaints or half-baked effort. I assure you that these next few months will be trying. _This time_ Potter, you will achieve your true potential, and I will not accept failure.”

\---:::---

**A/N: And…TA-DA!! Here it is as promised on Friday night. I hope you all like this chapter. It isn’t my favorite and it isn’t very exciting, but it’s another transitional chapter. Soon I’ll be introducing even more characters and things, so this was kind of necessary. Also, I can’t remember if Harry actually went into Snape’s quarters in fifth year or ever, so if he has, and they look nothing like I’ve described I’m taking creative license and changing things up a bit. It’s not a huge plot point, so I doubt anyone will actually be upset. I just thought this was cool. That’s all! See you all next update. Read and Review please!**


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: Hi everyone, here's chapter 8 as promised. I hope you all enjoy it. You should be excited because I'm posting on schedule. I know ton of other ppl who hate me right now because I haven't posted ch. 14 yet on the other site. I'm a bit behind and I got distracted by a little Sterek, so um I apologize ahead of time to you Bella and anyone else who reads ahead and is angry with me, but it's coming along well, annnnndddd....you guys don't really care about my rambling because you're good patient little bunnies and aren't reading ahead, so without further ado here's chapter 8! Please read and review after! This is also one of my absolute favorite chapters, so I'm realllllyyyy anxious to see what you guys think about it! :)**

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Chapter 8

“Honestly, how long are you two going to sleep?” Draco asked, dismantling the locking and privacy spells around Blaise’s curtains. Now that he knew what, more like _who_ , Blaise was hiding in his bed, Draco had no qualms about disturbing their privacy.

“Get your lazy arses up,” he said, flicking his wand and opening the curtains on the enchanted dungeon window, letting the bright sunlight in.

Harry groaned and rolled over into Blaise’s bare chest. “Why is he always like this in the morning,” he mumbled into his sleep.

“Because he’s a right arse-hole,” Blaise said, glaring at the blonde standing at the foot of his four-poster. 

Draco chuckled as he came to sit on the bottom of Blaise’s bed, facing Harry and Blaise. “I still can’t believe that you two have done this to yourselves,” he laughed lightly as he watched them pull apart and begin to stretch their muscles a little. “I can’t even imagine what your lives must be like, absolutely no privacy at all.”

Harry scowled and Blaise merely rolled his eyes. It seemed that it was finally hitting Draco, after finding them in bed together the morning following their talk in the Room of Requirement, that the two sixth years before him were truly stuck together by an invisible force of magic. 

As he watched them move so fluidly together he realized just how much time they spent together in intimate situations like this one, waking up cuddled together. That inevitably led to other…less innocuous thoughts. “Since you’re always together, do you two wank together,” he asked with a wicked grin. He could just imagine the awkwardness. Perhaps they tried to hide it from each other and did while they thought the other was sleeping, or maybe they did it in the shower and just tried to be really quiet. Although, Draco arched an eyebrow, Potter definitely seemed like a screamer to him. He snickered to himself until he noticed that neither of the boys had answered him. He looked up and openly gaped at their expressions.

Draco’s eyes opened wide and he looked from one boy to the next. “You can’t be serious? You two haven’t wanked at all this entire time? What about mutual masturbation?” At Harry’s horrified countenance, Draco took that as a no, and he just couldn’t believe it. Blaise, he knew for a fact was an unabashed sexual beast – a shameless sex fiend – and it was impossible for Draco to imagine his roommate restraining himself for any substantial length of time. To Draco’s calculation, it was nearing two weeks that the two had been attached, and Draco knew that even he would have a serious issue by this time. 

“Not even any snogging or heavy petting,” he inquired at their silence. “I don’t know about you Potter, but Blaise I know is completely bent. Furthermore,” he continued, taking little to no notice of Blaise’s ridged posture or Harry’s face which had lit up like a muggle Christmas tree. “You are not too bad to look at Potter, and you’re Blaise’s type, so I-”

“Draco,” Blaise called through clenched teeth, finally regaining the blonde’s full attention. He turned to look at Harry’s distressed appearance and shot his friend a scathing look, “Will you shut your gob already?” He arched an eyebrow letting the blonde know that – while he was speaking in a relatively mild tone – that was in no way, shape, or form a request. He needed to be silent now. 

Draco looked between the two of them, and noticed how strained the atmosphere had become in less than two minutes. Potter and Blaise both seemed out of sorts, but for obviously different reasons. As Draco had mentioned, Blaise was no stranger to sex, but Potter it seemed was a little less comfortable with the subject. Blaise on the other hand seemed to be more upset because Draco had discomfited Potter. 

Clearly, they hadn’t mentioned sex or anything remotely sexual between the two of them, and Draco was confused as to the reason. His best friend certainly wasn’t the type of person to beat around the bush in the pursuit of a bedmate, and Draco was telling the honest truth when said that Potter was definitely the Slytherin’s type. Potter was smaller than Blaise by a good six inches, and Blaise’s liked smaller beaus. He was naturally protective, and he assumed the role of protector unconsciously with his partners. The trait was blatantly obvious whenever Blaise glanced at Potter; it was subtle, but Draco had no problem discerning it. Blaise would subtly step in front of Potter in tense situations or hover over the boy’s shoulder, bearing down on him as if to cover him completely, shielding him from the ill intentions and glares of others. Draco snorted; he was doing it now as he situated himself slightly in front of Potter as he spoke quietly with him, guarding him anymore ill-timed, insensitive enquires from his aberrant best-friend. 

Draco cleared his throat to regain their attention. “I just came to wake the two of you up, so that we can go to breakfast. Once again, we will be late if you two don’t move your arses.”  
Harry nodded and narrowed his eyes at Draco, before turning to Blaise. “I’ll shower first, so you um-”

“Sure Harry,” Blaise said, moving to stand up from the bed and striding over to Draco’s bed which was closer to the rest room. The bond stretched from Blaise’s bed to the restroom, but there was less strain on their bodies – they found – if one of them moved to the blonde’s bed to wait. 

Draco stood to leave as Harry grabbed the toiletries he’d moved in into Blaise’s armoire. Just before the blonde stepped out of the room, he turned with a devious smirk on his face, “Be sure to have a nice wank in the shower now that everything’s out in the open. You both know you need to, so this is the perfect time to well, you know,” he smirked mischievously at Harry’s fiery blush and contemptuous glare as he exited the room laughing. 

Blaise sighed heavily and hung his head in resignation. Draco was incorrigible and it would likely take one hell of a patient man to curb him even the slightest bit.

\---:::---

“So,” Draco began, “what’s going on with you and Potter,” he asked Blaise later in potions. They weren’t working on a partner assignment, but they were still sharing a bench. Harry was roughly fifteen feet away at a bench with Longbottom, and Malfoy was fairly certain that the boy couldn’t hear him. Nonetheless, he lowered his voice even further when Blaise glanced at him from the corner of his eye before flicking them back over the Gryffindor side of the room.

The Italian grabbed a bowl of liquefied bat eyes and ladled two scoops into his cauldron, stirring the mixture six times clockwise before removing the pewter stirring stick and replacing it with the requisite silver one to stir the concoction twelve times counter-clockwise. He sighed and relaxed. The potion needed to simmer for ten minutes before he would have to add the final ingredients to the Euphoria elixir, a much stronger variant of the cheering potion that was often given to first and second year students experiencing homesickness during the first months of their stay at Hogwarts. 

“We have told you already,” Blaise said, taking a seat on his wooden stool. 

Draco took a seat as well and turned to face his friend directly, “You know what I mean.”

“Frankly, I do not,” Blaise said, running a hand through his dark brown locks agitatedly. Blaise didn’t really know what Draco was getting at although he had his assumptions. Either way, he wasn’t sure if he wanted to begin guessing. Draco could be quite unpredictable, and despite their close friendship, Blaise was still a Slytherin, and he had no intention of giving Malfoy more information than necessary. 

“Why haven’t you shagged the Golden Boy," Draco asked, jumping straight to the point.  
Blaise wasn’t surprised by the question, especially after that spectacular show this morning, but he was reluctant to mention anything. After all, he’d only just realized the extent of his feelings for the Gryffindor the day before.

He looked piercingly at his best friend and saw Draco squirm ever so slightly; this wasn’t a test per se, but Blaise felt that if he wasn’t candid now that his relationship with Draco would deteriorate rather quickly. “I like him,” he said bluntly. 

Draco arched a delicate eyebrow. 

Blaise restrained a sigh and continued while he added the ingredients for the final phase of brewing. “I’m not about to use Harry for a quick shag Draco; he is innocent and sweet,” Blaise sighed wistfully and gazed over at the Gryffindor. “Harry…Harry is delicate and I w-”

“Dear Merlin,” Draco whispered in a voice hovering between completely astounded and slightly horrified. “You are completely lost over Potter. This is…this is unbelievable.”

Blaise turned back to him with narrowed eyes. “Is it really that hard to believe?”

“Blaise it’s-” Draco began, but he was interrupted by Granger’s distinctive voice.

“Harry, where are you going,” Granger’s hissed, gaining the attention of several other students around her. 

Blaise looked up from his completed potion; it was a bright sunny yellow just as it should be, and he was preparing to bottle it when he saw Harry moving towards the ingredients cabinet. Blaise quickly cast a stasis charm over his cauldron and followed the boy because the ingredient’s pantry was on the other side of the room and it exceeded the distance they could be apart. 

“Harry!” she called again when the Gryffindor simply waved her off and pointed in the direction of the ingredients cupboard. Hermione and Ron were working on their potions at the bench directly behind Harry’s and Longbottom’s, but it seemed that even though she wasn’t working with either of the boys on this assignment she was still overly concerned with them. _How very considerate,_ Blaise sneered. 

“What are you doing?” Blaise whispered to him as he reached up and grabbed the decanter of peppermint Harry was gazing at. The boy could have reached it easily without his help if he stretched, but since he was there Blaise saw no reason to let him struggle.

Harry smiled up at him, and Blaise found that just as good of a reason to do for the Gryffindor as anything else. “We need a sprig of this,” Harry said plucking out a few peppermint leaves, handing two to Blaise and keeping two for himself. 

“What are they for,” Blaise asked. “The instructions don’t call for peppermint,” Blaise pointed out.

Harry nodded, “My book suggests it…so,” he shrugged non-committedly. 

Blaise smirked and replaced the decanter. Harry’s expression meant that he had absolutely no idea what the peppermint was going to do once introduced to the elixir, but he was willing to give it a try because _the Half-Blood Prince_ deemed it a good idea. Blaise shook his head wryly; he was beginning to feel a little jealous of this disembodied persona that garnered such faith from his Gryffindor. Sure, he knew the prince was his Head of House, but Harry didn’t, so he was romanticizing this figure right before Blaise’s eyes. 

“Alright, Harry, I’ll use this,” he relented, holding up the peppermint, “but know that I hold you completely responsible for any and all disasters.”

Harry merely smiled, “It’ll be fine. I have a gut feeling.” 

“Oh, I feel so very reassured,” Blaise teased. 

“You should,” Harry said, “My gut is always right.”

“Hmm,” Blaise hummed as he followed Harry back to their work benches, “What does your gut say about me?”

Harry blushed deeply, and Blaise nearly laughed; that rosy hue really was sweet and reassuring. He never saw Harry blushing at that book of his. Blaise winced; he was seriously slightly jealous of a potion’s book and by extension, his Head of House. It was slightly disturbing on several different levels and unbecoming of the Zabini heir. 

“That you’re brilliant,” Harry answered with a whisper. It was such a quiet utterance that Blaise nearly missed it, but it was imbued with such deep emotion that Blaise grinned widely for the entire room to see. He couldn’t contain himself; he felt as if he’d already sampled his Euphoria elixir. Fortunately for him, most of the students were too focused on completing their assignment before the class ended to take notice, so he could rest assured that his Slytherin reputation was quite intact. The only students privy to his lapse in stoicism were Daphne, Draco – of course – and Hermione Granger who couldn’t seem to take her eyes off of his Harry. Blaise caught her eye and glared at her menacingly, forcing her to return her gaze to her bubbling potion just as they reached their seats.

“Here,” Blaise passed some of the peppermint to Draco upon his return.

“What’s this for?” Draco asked, flipping through the book to see if he’d missed anything that mentioned peppermint. 

Blaise smirked at his friend, “Harry’s had a _spark or intuition_ and has decided to share his revelation with us.”

Draco groaned, “Not again.” He’d been miffed at the start of term by Harry’s precipitous improvement in potions, and he couldn’t understand where it was coming from. Despite that – with a Gryffindor-esque leap of faith foreign to all Slytherins – Draco crushed the peppermint and sprinkled it into his cauldron so that it would dissipate evenly into the potion, but he was reluctant to stir the concoction because, stirring it with either of the two different stirring rods would likely alter the properties of the potion more than the intended peppermint would, so he simply watched at the potion’s vivid yellow color, dimmed slightly, but didn’t change much more than that.

“What is this going to do?” Draco asked, pouring a small sample into two vials, one for grading and one for testing at the end of the hour.

Blaise shook his head, “I don’t know. Harry said we should try it, so I figured I would. He’s had amazing results all term.”

Draco groaned and flopped dramatically onto his tabletop. “Tell me you’re joking. I’ve received nothing but perfect marks in potions since my first year, and now it might all be ruined because Potter wants to add peppermint, and he has no idea what it’s supposed to do.” 

Blaise turned to him, “I am sure it will be fine Draco. Besides, no one twisted your arm, forcing you add it.” 

Draco merely ignored him and groaned again. He groaned even louder when Slughorn called the class to order so they could sample their potions. He went around the room commenting on the color and texture of each potion, and then assessed the results of the potion as each student sampled theirs. Many of the students achieved the desired results, but all of them displayed the unfortunate side-effects of excessive – often times embarrassing – singing and nose-tweaking as well, much to their neighbors’ horror. It was amusing, but the remaining students weren’t looking forward to the embarrassing side-effects they were sure to experience. 

“Hmm, Mr. Longbottom, this appears to be a serviceable potion, but the color is a little dim I believe. Depending on the effects of your potion, I may have to dock a few points from your grade today,” Slughorn said with a slight frown. 

Neville gulped and looked at Harry. Harry gave him a reassuring smile as he drank the potion. The effects were exactly as predicted, and Neville burst into euphoric laughter and a large grin. He clapped Harry on the back and shook Professor Slughorn’s hand vigorously. Eventually, Neville became accustomed to the effects as all the students did and settled down with a goofy, lopsided grin on his face. The class waited with bated breath for the accompanying side-effects, but they never presented themselves, much to everyone’s astonishment. Whispers broke out with intermittent song lyrics and squeals from students who were having their noses pinched incessantly. 

“Well then,” Slughorn said, astonished, “settle down students. We still have several potions to test yet. Mr. Potter, your potion is quite the peculiar color as well,” Slughorn said with an arched eyebrow. He seemed much calmer after gazing into Harry’s cauldron. Apparently, he expected similar results from Harry’s elixir as he’d found in Neville’s, and it was much less of a surprise since Harry had been doing so very well in his class thus far. There was no doubt in his mind that Potter must have aided Longbottom in some manner. Thus, he was not surprised when Harry’s potion yielded similar results to Neville’s sans side-effects. 

Hermione was glaring at Harry’s back, and her temperament only soured further when she presented her potion and Slughorn tsked at the bright sunshine yellow elixir she’d brewed. “You are very bright Ms. Granger,” he shook his head, “there’s no doubt about that, but you must strive for more,” he implored, taking a quick step backwards to avoid her pinching fingers. “Ms. Granger! Do try to contain yourself,” he admonished. 

Hermione grabbed her right arm and attempted to hold it down as she mumbled, “Yes, sir.”  
Moving on, Slughorn was very disappointed with Ron’s potion. It had no effect what-so-ever, and Slughorn was very curious as to how the boy achieved the pale yellow color of his potion at all. Ron huffed as he received a zero on his practical for the day. He couldn’t believe that Hermione wouldn’t help him, even though Harry was helping Neville. It’s not cheating if you reminded your neighbor to add the liquefied bat eyes, he groused. It wasn’t his fault he’d missed them; they were on the other side of _her_ cauldron, and he couldn’t even see them. 

“Well done boys, both of you,” Slughorn beamed at Draco and Blaise as he stood before their table. They were the final students and, judging from the color of their potions, their professor was expecting great results from them. “Go on then, try them out. Splendid!” he exclaimed after they’d tried their potions. “You four will have to explain just how you achieved such an effect in the accompanying essay for the Euphoria elixir.” They all nodded and Slughorn dismissed the class. 

Harry and Neville exited the room first with residual effects of the elixir, closely followed by Blaise, Draco, Daphne, Ron, and Hermione. To the outsider, it might have seemed as if they were all friends as they made their way to their next class, but inside, two of the Gryffindor’s were seething. Hermione was still trying to control the urge to tweak noses while she smiled until her cheeks ached. Ron was angry about his zero which he blamed entirely on Hermione. Daphne wasn’t quite angry beneath her cheerful veneer, but she was confused.

She grabbed her friends and put a little distance between them and the Gryffindors. “How did you two do that,” she asked in a sing-song-y voice. 

Draco snickered and Blaise smirked happily, “Harry helped me, and I helped Draco.”

She arched an eyebrow. “Just what is going on?” 

Despite their cheerful moods, both boys sobered as much as possible, “This is not the place or time,” Blaise said, looking around at the passing students.

Draco nodded. Daphne inhaled deeply; she was finding it difficult to be irritated with them with the potion still lingering in her system, so she decided to let it go for now, but it was clear that Draco was now privy to more information that she was, and she couldn’t help but take issue with that. 

Blaise turned around abruptly when he felt a stinging tug around his center and saw Harry pause before turning to look back them, a question clear on his face. They were about twenty-three feet apart. Apparently, Snape was right. The distance was slowly increasing, but if Harry distanced himself much further, Blaise knew that there was much more pain in store for them.

“What are you doing Harry,” Hermione asked, clearly becoming more incensed by the moment. 

“I’m waiting for Blaise,” Harry admitted distractedly. He and Blaise had been spending enough time together at this point, that he felt it rather useless to try and make up an excuse. They were all going to the same place anyway. 

Hermione tugged on his arm though and began to try and pull him down the hall, “You need to come on; we’ll be late, and you’ve been spending too much time with Slytherins as it is. We’ll see them in class, and that’s enough. It’s bad enough that you’re always disappearing lately, and I know you’re with Zabini at least if not with the rest of them. I don’t know what’s going on, but that book and those Slytherins are having a terrible influence on you. You hardly even hang out with your real friends, and you never see Ginny anymore,” Hermione said, tugging Harry harder to his dismay.

“Hermione you need to let me go,” Harry said through clenched teeth ignoring the pain lancing up his back. He was getting further from Blaise who moving swiftly towards them with Draco hot on his heels, but the hall was now crowded with students and they were having a difficult time wading through them. 

“No,” Hermione nearly yelled. “This has got to stop Harry. You need to be with your _real friends_.”

When the pain reached an intolerable level, he yanked his arm harder and pulled his wand. He was going to have to hex her if she didn’t let go. He legs were quivering, and his jaw was clenched painfully against a scream. He wasn’t sure how he had managed to remain standing for this long, but he raised his wand and was prepared to cast a strong stinging charm at Hermione, but there was a break in the students milling around and the group of Slytherins rushed forward. 

Harry nearly collapsed in relief when Blaise was ten feet away from him. It seemed they’d taken one step forward only to have to take two steps backwards because the pain didn’t cease completely until Blaise was approximately nine feet away. Only time would tell if they would regain the full twenty-three feet they had achieved earlier. 

“Unhand him, Granger,” Blaise bit out, pure malice shining in his eyes. He had his wand drawn, pointing straight between her eyes, and he was panting heavily. Obviously, the pain was overwhelming for the Slytherin as well, and he was still recovering from it. 

Harry gazed up into his face and the view was staggering. He had no doubt that Blaise would become violent in mere seconds if she didn’t listen to him. 

Hermione was stunned by the level of malevolence directed towards her which allowed Harry to yank his arm free. He was hard pressed not to run to Blaise as he had a few weeks ago. As it was, he didn’t take his time closing the few between them. Blaise stared at the stunned Gryffindors for a few more seconds before he gazed at Harry, his expression instantly softening. 

“Are you alright,” he whispered as he checked Harry over, placing his hands on his face, tipping his head left, right, and backwards. Blaise had the insane urge to kiss Harry’s strawberry lips, but he refrained and gently ran his thumbs across Harry’s jaw bone instead. Both of them sighed with the contact, and despite their restraint it was still an intimate display. However, in the face of the pain he’d felt minutes earlier, Harry couldn’t bring himself to care about their audience. 

“Harry,” Ron asked hesitantly, “what’s going on?” Surely, his eyes were deceiving him.  
Harry blinked twice and then went rigid, and Blaise wanted to growl. Hermione’s behavior, the pain he had experienced, and the pain he could imagine Harry had felt as well had the Slytherin up in arms. 

“It is nothing you need to know right now,” Blaise answered for Harry, an uncharacteristic rumble present in his voice. 

Ron turned bright red and took a step forward, “Yeah? Well I wasn’t talking to you Zabini,” he raged, beginning to quickly lose his cool. 

Harry turned around completely to face Ron, Hermione, and Neville, but he didn’t take a step away from Blaise. “He’s right Ron. We need to hurry if we’re going to make it to Herbology on time.” 

Hermione noticed that Harry made no promises to talk later as he herded them all down to the greenhouses, but she wouldn’t forget to get her answers sooner or later. Enough was enough. She didn’t know what had just happened in the hall or what was going on with Harry, but she wasn’t going to stand for it any longer.

\---:::---

Narcissa sat in her personal parlor that overlooked the Malfoy’s expansive east garden. Lucius had it created for her as their first anniversary gift – she smirked – among other things. She suppressed a flush. It wouldn’t do for someone to walk in and find the current Malfoy matriarch blushing all on her own. And, with her current _house guests_ she didn’t trust even the slightest moment of solitude for what it was. Oh how she loathed feeling anxious in her own home. That anxiety made her angry, and she longed to lash out at something or someone, but again that was unbecoming of a lady of her stature.

She stood and took a calming breath, striding over to the wall length bookcase that sat just below the portrait of her Great-great grandmother Ursula Flint. The woman nodded to her regally from her frame and Narcissa returned a small, silent wave. Ursula Flint was a very taciturn woman who hardly ever spoke even in life. That is why she chose to have her placed in her personal parlor. Her aunt Walburga refused to be removed from that decrepit little townhouse on Grimmauld which was all the better for Narcissa because she would have destroyed the painting within a week after putting up with the woman’s mad shrieking. Her own mother she’d placed in their receiving room because Druella, while certainly more pleasant than her sister, was a chatterbox, and Narcissa would never have any peace and quiet in this room if she’d allowed her mother entrance. As it was, Narcissa made it a point to go and visit her mother once a week to appease her. She was very put out that she wasn’t allowed into _this_ room, so a weekly hourly visit was a pittance to pay in order to keep her mother’s portrait out of her parlor without the old matriarch turning into a bitter, jilted harridan like her Aunt Walburga. 

Narcissa selected a small book of poems and flicked a loose curl out of her eyes as she strode in her light, peach fall robes back to her cushioned seat in the bay window facing the garden filled with Narcissus. It was a truly beautiful garden and she was grateful to the elves that tended it and kept the flowers blooming until the first snow. She was just settling into her book when her personal elf popped into the room. 

“Yes Nimsy,” she said, closing her book. It wasn’t time for lunch yet, and she’d received her afternoon tea an hour ago.

“I be’s having a letter for Mistress from Master Draco.”

Narcissa grabbed her wand and sent the book back to its slot on the book shelf and moved purposefully toward her elf to retrieve the folded parchment, bearing the Malfoy seal. 

“Thank you Nimsy,” she said to the elf. “You’ve done well. Did anyone else see the letter arrive or see you with it?”

The elf shook her head, her little ears flopping back and forth. “No Mistress, I be’s watching for Master Draco’s owl like you’s be ordering and bringing it straight to you Mistress.” 

“Good,” she smiled again before dismissing the elf. She looked the missive over many times before checking it with her wand for any jinxes or hexes. When she’s removed the privacy wards Draco had cast on it and locked her parlor door, she sat to finally open and read the letter. It was short and to the point, and categorically the most shocking thing she had ever read in the entirety of her life.

\---:::---

Narcissa squared her shoulders and walked gracefully through the halls of Malfoy Manor. She sneered at the death eaters lingering in her halls and marched directly to her husband’s study. They were clearly wondering what business she had with Lucius at this time as he would surely be conducting business, most likely for the Dark Lord, but it was not their place to question her actions, and she let them know it with a scathing glare of disdain. If they had the Gryffindor courage to challenge her directly, then they would feel the sting of her wand. As none of them did, she sniffed with contempt and disregarded them completely. This was still her husband’s manor and her home, and she was still the Lady of this house. As such, regardless of its undesirable recent tenants, she would never enter any room timidly or without poise. Guarding her expression, and lifting her chin haughtily, she strolled into Lucius’ study confidently. She ignored Rodolphus and her sister on the far side of the room, walking over to her husband’s desk where he was scanning a few parchments with Rabastan.

Narcissa waited patiently for the men to look up and acknowledge her. It wasn’t long before Lucius placed the parchment on the desk top and gazed up at her, “Yes, my dear.”

She smiled softly and lifted a folded piece of parchment, speaking lowly so that the two before the fire wouldn’t over hear her. “I have received an amusing missive from our son, and I thought we could discuss it over lunch on the veranda.”

Lucius eyed her critically and flicked his eyes towards Rabastan who was blatantly eavesdropping. His wife knew that every letter from their son was to be seen by the Dark Lord before all others due to the secretive nature of his mission, so he was sure that whatever was written was damning for their son, and she hoped they could help him before the Dark Lord became aware of its contents. 

Lucius stood, “I am afraid we will have to finish this discussion at a later date, Rabastan. I will send an elf to fetch you when I am available.”

“Actually, my dear,” Narcissa interrupted. “I think it would be wonderful if Rabastan were to join us.” Turning to the man in question she smiled, “When was the last time we sat together for a chat Bastan?”

The man smirked mischievously, “I believe the last time was when we set your Aunt Walburga’s robes on fire in our second year,” he stated, his rich baritone still raspy from his stint in Azkaban. Considering the amount of time he had to spend in that unfortunate place, he’d turned out fairly well, much saner that Narcissa’s sister, Bellatrix – granted she was a lost cause when she entered the prison – and had retained many of his handsome features despite being a little thin. His long shoulder length hair was regaining its luster and thickness, and he was keeping his goatee neatly trimmed. After gaining fifteen to twenty pounds, he would once again be quite dashing.

Narcissa graced him with a genuine smile, “Aw of course, how could I forget that? Would you be opposed to stirring up a little more mischief with Lucius and I?” 

Lucius arched an eyebrow. He had no idea what his wife was playing at, and now he was really curious as to what that letter might contain. 

Rabastan also donned a calculating expression as his eyes roved over the woman in front of him, settling ultimately on the letter in her hand. She was up to something; of that he had no doubt, but he wasn’t sure if he wanted to be a part of it. He withheld a forlorn sigh. His brother had gotten him into some fowl shit after he’d married that wench, and he’d categorically ruined his life which used be very carefree and fun. In that regard he was much like Sirius in temperament, and he often times regretted not following his once-upon-a-time friend into Gryffindor. They seemed to have such fun back then. Well, considering how they all ended up, maybe it was better that he’d refrained. Nonetheless, Rabastan wasn't sure that he wanted to place his faith in yet another letter from a Black woman.

“I assure you; you won’t regret this,” she said into the silence. Her sister and Rodolphus were becoming curious, and she wanted them to have no part in this. 

Rabastan chuckled and shook his head with a smile, “If you weren’t happily married and Lucius wasn’t a possessive violent husband, I would think you were trying to seduce me, Cissa.”  
Lucius couldn’t refrain and smirked, “You mean if you weren’t completely bent,” he laughed quietly. 

Rabastan shrugged, “Well, yes that too. Now, about this lunch,” he turned back to the lady. “Lucius is a slave driver and hasn’t allowed me a single break for hours. I’d love to join you.”

\---:::---

Harry sighed heavily as he followed his friends up the stairs from the Great Hall towards Gryffindor Tower. One would imagine he was walking towards the gallows for all of the enthusiasm he felt. He desperately wished that Snape hadn’t sent that note during dinner cancelling their session tonight. Even spending time with Snape, while more than likely experiencing some serious pain as the man tinkered with their bond, seemed like a better prospect than sitting down and attempting a conversation with his friends. Now that he thought about it, it had been at least three or four days since he’d had a real talk with them that wasn’t making an excuse to ditch them.

Harry sighed again. _I guess they deserve at least a little more than that_ , he thought, but as he looked up at Ron’s tense back and Hermione’s bushy hair he began having second thoughts again. This was going to be horrid; he just knew it. They were going to – once again – gang up on him until he told them what they wanted to hear. Anything less than that and he was sure that he wouldn’t get a word in edgewise. With Ron, as long as it didn’t involve Draco Malfoy, the redhead might listen to him a little. But, with Hermione present, things would probably go south really quickly. 

After they stepped into the common room, Hermione made short work of shooing the younger years away from their usual spot near the fireplace. Ron took a seat on the couch beside Harry, and Hermione sat in front of both of them on an ottoman like a presiding judge.

“Now, Harry I think we deserve some answers, and I want them now. What is going with you and those Slytherins? Zabini pointed his wand in my face, and I am sure that he had every intention of using it.”

Ron nodded, “Yeah mate, that was surprising, and uncalled for. I can’t believe you would let him attack Hermione.”

Harry winced. That had been shocking to him as well. This was the second time Blaise had raised his wand against someone in defense of Harry. He felt an invisible nudge against his leg, and he knew that Blaise was there beside him, and that bolstered him a little. 

“Look guys,” Harry began, “Blaise is my friend. He’s not just my charms’ partner or someone I’m stuck with.” Harry paused as Blaise nudged him in the ribs. _Okay, so yes he was stuck with him, but that’s not what he meant_. 

Harry pressed on after containing a snicker that had to be the remnants of his euphoria elixir because that pun was hardly funny, “I like spending time with him and-”

“More than with us,” Ron asked. Harry couldn’t tell if he looked more hurt or angry at this point.  
Harry was silent for a time, trying to find the perfect words. “Sometimes, yes,” he began.  
Hermione looked completely affronted, and Ron was beginning to turn crimson. “You cannot be serious,” Hermione shrieked. “You barely even know him!”

“Yes, well I barely knew you two when I first met you,” Harry countered, beginning to lose his temper as well. “There’s nothing wrong with giving people a chance and making new friends Hermione.”

“Yes, it is when they’re probably bloody death eaters!” Ron yelled.

“He’s not a death eater Ron!” Harry shouted right back. “His family is neutral, and every Slytherin is not a death eater. If you two would just give him a chance and try to get to know him, you might realize that.”

Hermione placed her fingertips on her temples, “Harry’s right about that Ron; I’m sure Zabini isn’t a death eater. But, you can’t expect us not to be worried Harry,” she said turning to him.

Harry rolled his eyes, “Is that what this is? You’re only worried? Hermione, you’ve never just been worried. You want to know everything, and that goes well beyond what we can learn in class. You want to control every aspect of my life and Ron’s.”

Ron was eerily silent at this moment.

“I do not! Take that back!” she exclaimed.

“Fine,” Harry threw his arms up. He didn’t want to fight with them. It was just so exhausting, and he didn’t even really care to be honest. 

Hermione tried again to restart the conversation, “What’s going on with you Harry? Zabini-”

Harry sighed for the millionth time, “This isn’t about Blaise; this is about us and what’s happening to our friendship. Blaise is my friend; I want him around, and as long as he feels the same we will spend time together. I still want to be with you guys too though,” he said quietly. “Ron, I’m not on the quiddich team anymore, but that doesn’t mean we can’t go flying sometimes or play chess even though I’m bollox at it. Actually, Blaise is much better at it than I am. If you two could learn to tolerate each other, maybe you could play with someone challenging for a change.”

Ron had perked up when Harry mentioned flying, and Harry felt a little bad about leaving him alone with Hermione and Ginny so much. The boy was probably just lonely; he knew how difficult Hermione could be, and she was even worse with Ron. Not to mention that the girl didn’t really have any fun hobbies that Ron could enjoy with her the way he and Harry enjoyed quiddich or exploding snap. All she wanted to was read and research. Honestly, there was nothing wrong with that if she wanted to go hang out with eagles, but in the lion house she really needed to develop more interests.

“That might not be too bad,” Ron said, making Harry smile. 

“Ronald!” Hermione exclaimed, “You can’t be serious. You hate the Slytherins and furthermore-”

“Aren’t you the one who’s always saying that we should work more towards inter-house unity,” Harry asked tiredly, “So why are you trying so hard to-”

Hermione clenched her teeth before interrupting, “Well, aren’t you the one who tried to convince us that Draco was an evil git bent on destroying us this year?” 

“I’m not here to throw around accusations. Draco is a different story, and for the record he was up to something, not that I expect you to believe me.” _You never do_.

“What was it, mate?” Ron asked, sitting up in his seat. 

Harry shook his head, “It doesn’t matter anymore.” 

“See, Harry, if you would be more frank with us, then we would believe you more,” Hermione said, gesturing towards him. “Lately, you’ve been disappearing every second you can, and you won’t tell us why, only that you’re with Zabini. Why?”

Harry thought about telling them about their charm’s issue, but he just couldn’t. He didn’t trust Ron to remain calm and silent about the ordeal, and he knew without a doubt that Hermione would run straight to McGonagall and then to Dumbledore, and that was the last thing Harry wanted or needed. He just couldn’t trust them.

Harry’s eyes hardened as he came to that realization and understood that this argument was pointless because as things currently stood he would never tell them what they wanted to hear, so they would never stop fighting. “Blaise is important to me,” he tried again, “and I want to spend time with him. You two are more than welcome to join us if you’d like.”

Ron’s brow furrowed, and he seemed to be in deep thought. He heaved a great sigh and looked as if he was picking up a huge burden, “Does Zabini even fly?” he asked.

Harry grinned. “I’m sure that he does.” Harry turned towards Hermione expectantly.

Hermione shook her head, “If you’re not going to tell me the truth, then I…I just can’t Harry,” she said. “You’re supposed to be our friend, and after everything we’ve done and sacrificed for you you’re going to sit there and lie and tell me half-truths?” She shook her head and stood up, stomping towards the girls’ dormitory. 

Ron gulped loudly, and turned back to Harry, “Well, um I’ll try to get one of the girls to fetch her,” he said, standing to walk away. Before he was out of earshot though, he turned around, “Maybe we can go flying or something on Saturday?” the redhead asked hesitantly.

Harry smiled and nodded, “I’d like that Ron.”  
Ron gave a curt nod before walking. It was strange to him to that he felt such trepidation just asking to hang out with his best friend, but things were changing; that Ron was sure of, and he was quickly coming to the realization that he would have to decide really quickly how he wanted that upheaval to effect his life. He’d let Harry down countless times before; he knew that, and he felt that soon Harry wouldn’t put up with him anymore, that he would outgrow him. Ron really didn’t want that.

\---:::---

“Well that could have gone better,” Harry sighed, stepping out of the bathroom and into his curtains. He wasn't surprised to find Blaise sprawled out on his bed reading a book without a shirt.

“I highly doubt that Harry,” Blaise said, snapping his book closed and tossing it over the edge of the bed. 

“You doubt what?” Harry asked attempting to towel dry his hair. He laughed a little when Blaise snatched it from his hand and began rubbing his hair down for him. 

Moving to sit behind Harry, situating the boy firmly between his thighs, Blaise pulled Harry back into his chest and draped the damp towel around his shoulders. “That conversation couldn’t have gone much better than it did Harry. You have to be honest with yourself. If you can’t bring yourself to tell them your secrets, then you can’t fool yourself into believing that your friendship is at the same as it was before.”

Harry’s shoulders slumped, and he heaved a heavy sigh. “I just couldn’t tell them; I tried, but it just wouldn’t come out. It’s like the words were stuck in my stomach,” Harry murmured.

Blaise rubbed his thin shoulders lightly, pressing his thumbs into the tense muscles. “I am not trying to convince you one way or the other, Harry,” he said. “But, you cannot worry yourself over it either. Whatever they have done to earn your silence is their failing, and you shouldn’t get worked up over it. You need to respect your gut feeling right?” 

Harry laughed and turned around to face Blaise with a smile and a cocked head, “Did you just attempt to make a joke?”

“Attempt?” Blaise reeled backwards, “You wound me Harry. In any case, you haven’t told them everything yet, but who’s to say you won’t in the future if they come around. They were good friends to you once upon a time,” Blaise said, trying to soothe some of Harry’s anxiety. “But, if they never are again, I will be here for you, Harry.”

Oxygen became trapped in Harry’s throat, and he could hardly breathe. His eyes grew large and his hands began to sweat. _Just what does he mean by that?_

“Also,” Blaise forged on, reluctant to allow things to become too awkward between them, “You’ll have Draco too,” he smirked. “Not that you will always want him,” he laughed.  
Harry expelled the air in his lungs with a great push, followed by laughter that was only slightly hysterical. He groaned, “A bunch of Slytherins, what did I do to deserve that?”

Blaise smiled, “Something great, I’m sure.”

Harry merely smiled and shook his head as silence descended upon the small space, and Harry began to feel really awkward, so he got rid of his towel and moved towards the top of the bed. “I guess we should sleep now. It’s not that late, but we don’t really have much else to do tonight since Snape cancelled tonight’s meeting.”

“His owl during dinner was very vague,” Harry mumbled to himself. _Probably had a Death Eater meeting_ , Harry thought to himself.

“Hmm, we could meditate for a little while for Transfiguration tomorrow,” Blaise suggested as he turned to watch Harry’s bum again as he crawled across the covers. His fascination with Harry’s arse was really getting out of hand, but the Slytherin could care less. So what if he liked staring at it and letting his imagination run away with him? That was his prerogative and no one else’s business. With that thought, a strange impulse stole over him. “Harry turn around for a second.”

“Huh,” Harry said, turning to face him. He was taken completely by surprise when Blaise reached over and began trying to undress him.

“What are you doing!” Harry squeaked and blushed, grabbing Blaise’s hands.

“I’m going to give you a massage, Harry,” Blaise smirked, the idea now firmly lodged into his brain. “You’ve had a trying day Harry; let me help you,” Blaise whispered, bending over his knees so that he was looking Harry straight in the eyes, the boy’s shirt still clenched in his fists. 

“You’re always trying to help me,” Harry muttered with a pout.

Blaise watched as Harry debated with himself and then flicked his eyes upward, staring at Blaise. He wasn’t sure what the Gryffindor saw there, but with that sweet pout he seemed to give in just a little. Blaise shifted off of the bed and stood tall, taking Harry’s large shirt with him and tugging it over the boy’s wild bedhead. He tossed the garment behind him in the direction of his book and Harry’s towel, adding to their pile of discarded things. Blaise swallowed thickly as he took in Harry’s bare chest. It was thin, like the rest of him but still lightly muscled and had a smattering of scars scattered across his skin. Blaise looked up at Harry’s face and met his blush. 

“Besides,” the Slytherin added, hoping to convince Harry further as he crawled back onto the bed, “Professor Snape said that we needed to spend more time touching to allow our bond to settle,” Blaise reminded him as he grabbed Harry’s bare shoulders and turned his body, situating the Gryffindor on his stomach on top of the soft burgundy sheets. 

Harry bit his lip while allowing Blaise to have his way with his body; he’d never been given a massage before and didn’t know what to expect or how to react, and that made him nervous. On a personal level, he wasn’t reluctant because he was adverse to Blaise’s attentions, but he didn’t want to read too much into the Slytherin’s behavior. Nevertheless, he couldn’t quell the pattering of his heart or calm the rampant snitch fluttering aimlessly in his belly. He was attracted to the Slytherin above him, and there was nothing he could do about it. Blaise and the things he made Harry feel just by standing next to him, by smiling…were…Harry sighed _truly indescribable_.

Seconds later, Harry moaned quietly as Blaise’s warm hands began to knead soothing oil into the skin of his back. Those fingers were sinful, and Harry closed his eyes to truly bask in the sensual feeling. 

Blaise smiled as Harry relaxed completely and seemed to melt into his sheets. It appeared that he was doing a good job. He couldn’t help but smirk at that; Harry was very easy to please. He reached over the boy’s back to grab the discarded bottle of massage oil to add more to Harry’s back. The nearly inaudible squeak the Gryffindor released when the cold oil hit his back was highly amusing. 

Blaise said nothing as he rubbed his hands in the scent pool and applied all of his attention to working the kinks out of Harry’s back. He slid his right hand slowly up Harry’s spine, closely following it with his left. Then, he ran both of them down Harry’s sides, careful not to tickle him and ruin the mood. Harry was breathing deeply and looked really relaxed beneath his fingers, and that’s how Blaise wanted him to remain. He used his thumbs to rub circles over the particularly tense spots at the top of Harry’s shoulders, making the boy groan blissfully, before making his way down to the base of his back. He repeated the cycle again and again, running his hands up Harry’s spine, down his sides, and then back up to his shoulders and then down his back again.

Harry was biting his lip again but for a completely different reason this time. He wasn’t nervous any longer; he was too busy trying to focus on not embarrassing himself. Blaise was amazing. It was just his back, and aside from keep it intact and devoid of unnecessary pain, Harry never paid much attention to it. But, at that moment, atop his bed with those marvelous fingers having their way with him, it had become his most sensitive erogenous zone. Harry knew that this experience would fuel his sexual fantasies for a week if not an entire fortnight. At the moment, he was hard pressed to hide his burgeoning arousal.

Blaise was feeling much the same way. He longed to run his hands over the entirety of Harry’s body, and once he felt the knots give way in Harry’s back he was reluctant to remove his hands from the boy’s body. His skin was so soft despite the few scars, and the little sounds he released periodically were driving Blaise to distraction. He could hardly focus on any singular thought, and anything that didn’t relate to touching Harry had absolutely no chance of gaining even an iota of his attention.

The Italian inhaled a shuddering breath as his hands slid further and further downward until he once again reached the base of Harry’s back and the met the swell of Harry’s pert bottom. The Gryffindor’s sleepwear was atrociously large on his slight frame as was most of his clothing aside from his school uniform. In this instance though, Blaise found them to be a blessing because they were riding low on Harry’s hips and allowed the Slytherin’s fingertips to graze the sinuous curve of Harry’s arse. 

Harry’s sharp inhalation told Blaise that he was well aware of his wandering fingers, but the boy made no move to stop him, emboldening the Slytherin. Blaise slid his slick, nimble fingers further down beneath Harry’s baggy sleep pants. He looked up at the back of Harry’s head as he grabbed to handfuls of Harry’s rounded bottom and began to knead the globes in his hands. Then swallowed thickly as Harry’s breathing quickened and he tried to stifle a moan. 

“Does it feel good Harry, my massage?” Blaise asked huskily. He imagined that it would, but he wanted to be clear. If Harry wanted him to stop, then he would no questions asked. Harry nodded vehemently and clenched the bed sheets when Blaise tugged his pants down just a little. When Harry lifted his hips to allow the fabric to slide down further, Blaise froze in shock before he smirked and grabbed the bottle of oil; he never expected his little Gryffindor to be so brazen. 

He rubbed the oil between his fingers and began to rub Harry down from his shoulders to his arse, alternating between soft light touches and firm bodywork. Harry was a veritable quivering mess beneath his hands, and Blaise reveled in it. He knew that Harry was becoming aroused, and that satisfied him because he wanted to make Harry feel good. His own rapidly increasing arousal was of little surprise because in the past few days there was little Harry did that didn’t stimulate the Slytherin, not to mention Harry had the sweetest arse he’d ever had the pleasure of laying his hands on.

When Blaise felt the nearly uncontrollable urge to reach around Harry and grab his cock, he knew that he needed to stop before he took them to a place he wasn’t sure Harry was prepared to go yet. Before he lost complete control over his actions he sat up and slowed his movements. 

When Blaise ceased his movements altogether and grudgingly removed his hands, Harry exhaled heavily as if he’d been holding his breath the entire time. “Sh-should I do you now?” Harry asked bashfully, pushing up onto his knees. He turned to Blaise and gazed at him with sleepy eyes and that sweet blush gracing his face once again. 

Blaise shook his head with a smile. At that moment, he didn’t think he’d be able to control himself if Harry put his hands on him.

“Tomorrow,” Blaise said, latching on to Harry’s bicep to pull him down toward the pillows. He forwent all pretenses and settled Harry snugly on his chest. “You can do it tomorrow if you want,” he whispered. 

Harry nodded silently against his warm mocha skin and closed his eyes when the lights went out.

\---:::---

**A/N: I really hope that you guys like this chapter. I had fun writing it although it was a little tough to get it all together right. I definitely wanted to bring in a few more Harry, Ron and Hermione moments since I haven’t had many of those in lately. If you haven’t noticed, I’m tweaking Rabastan’s age. I’m making him closer to Sirius and Snape’s age. He’s actually two years younger than them, and that would make him four years younger than his brother and Lucius in this fic. Narcissa is also four years younger than her husband. Also, I want to get Harry and Blaise’s relationship moving now, so we’ve got the beginnings of that in here too. I figured it was about time at this point, so I really hope this wasn’t too abrupt for people. Although I know that many of you are thinking… “Ok, what the heck?! They haven’t even kissed yet, and Blaise is touching… _attacking_ his bare ass?” Well, I know that generally things start with a bewildering kiss or something, but this started out innocent enough (lolz) and I wanted this to be a little bit different than your average first scene and since this isn’t a creature fic (or awesome Sterek fic) I can’t have them rolling around being all primal and scenting each other (I really love that btw, but I have to keep it at least a _little_ realistic), so this is what I came up with instead. I tried to go back and tone it down a little. I really _really_ did try, but this just seemed so much better and no matter how many times I reread it or fretted over it, toning it down just…I just couldn’t do it, so this is what we’ve got. Plus, Blaise is a Slytherin, no matter how sweet he is with Harry. If you give this boy an inch, he’ll take a mile. That’s just how Slytherins are lmao! Besides, Blaise really is a sexual beast haha. I hope you guys liked this preamble to their relationship. But anyway, please read and review and let me know what you think. **


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, here's chapter 9! I hope you guys like it. :) This is a transition chapter of sorts, but I think it definitely has its high points. It introduces one of my absolute favorite characters because he's sooo cool lolz! And it's the beginning of a new, slow-building (definitely won't take over the story, so don't worry) couple which I adore, so yay! Enjoy. Please read and review or leave kudos. :)

**Chapter 9**

Harry was in a right state when he awoke the next morning. There wasn't a moment of grogginess or heaviness on his mind. His body felt loose and boneless, completely relaxed as he lay against Blaise, but with that came absolute clarity and anxiety.

What was he supposed to think after last night? He was so dazed that he didn't put up a struggle when Blaise pulled him down to sleep, but _now_? Now, he was rested and the initial shock had worn off, giving way to incredulity and embarrassment. Did he really allow the Slytherin to touch him all over? Harry blushed as his skin began to tingle from phantom fingers glossing over him. He bit his lip and shut his eyes tightly. _What now_?

Obviously, their relationship was evolving quickly, and Harry needed to take ownership of it before he lost his way completely. He knew exactly what he wanted, but in this…he had no idea what Blaise was thinking. He’d been nothing but kind and patient with Harry, and even that seemed like he was selling the Slytherin short, but Harry thought it might be a little too mawkish to call the boy a prince. Seriously, he wasn’t a Hufflepuff, but he would acknowledge that every day the Slytherin delighted him more and more. It was so easy to be with Blaise, even in the heart of Slytherin territory, and Harry didn’t want that to change. However, he couldn’t imagine how that _innocent massage_ last night wouldn’t change everything. 

Harry maneuvered out of Blaise’s embrace and sat up to stare at him. Harry could hardly look him directly in the face anymore without blushing, so this was a rare opportunity. In the beginning, he had no trouble admitting that Blaise was good-looking without feeling funny about it. He even remembered staring deep into his eyes a few weeks ago without the slightest blush. Now, if he caught Blaise’s eye over the top his textbook in the library his stomach twisted into so many knots. He could only imagine that it would get worse from here on out. 

Harry leaned over and lifted a hand to brush away the stray curls falling into Blaise’s face. He looked so peaceful in slumber, and Harry’s hand shook as he tried not to wake the sleeping Slytherin. It was still early, and Harry wanted to let him get as much sleep as possible since Draco wasn’t there to wake them rudely. He didn’t notice as his fingers lingered on Blaise’s smooth mocha skin and slid across his parted lips, but he jumped when Blaise’s tongue darted out and teased his fingertips. 

Blaise opened his eyes and gazed at Harry’s bare chest, heaving from his surprise. 

“It seems I am not the only one who cannot keep my hands to myself,” Blaise chuckled, his voice still rough from sleep. 

Harry’s heart was still pounding from being startled, and those thick coils in his stomach were tightening low in his gut as Blaise’s husky voice reached his ears. 

“I’m sorry,” Harry said haltingly, “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“That’s okay Harry,” Blaise said, turning onto his back so he could see Harry clearly, “You are much sweeter than my usual alarm clock.” Blaise smirked and put his hands behind his head as he took in Harry’s pink blush. Those were becoming much more frequent. 

Harry cleared his throat and shifted around, looking for the shirt he’d discarded last night. The early morning chill was seeping through the crack in his bed curtains, and he was getting colder by the second. Not to mention it was embarrassing to sit half-naked in front of Blaise, showing off his scrawny chest. “I think Draco might resent that statement.”

Blaise shrugged with a loose smile, “Oh, I am sure he might, but if he were sitting where I am sitting I think he would be more inclined to agree with me.”

Harry’s widened in shock as Blaise’s eyes roamed his body unabashedly. Harry turned a vibrant red and lunged to side of the bed grabbing the first garment with sleeves from the floor. Blaise was always teasing Harry and trying to make him blush, but Harry couldn’t help but notice that he was being much more brazen now than he was before. 

Blaise watched and sighed quietly as Harry covered the skin he was quickly becoming addicted to. “Harry, I was thinking while you were sleeping,” Blaise said, sitting up fully. He’d decided days ago that he wanted to pursue a real relationship with the Gryffindor, and Blaise wasn’t one to dawdle after making a decision. After confirming how accepting Harry was of his touch last night, he didn’t want to wait any longer.

Harry tugged his shirt on and sat down in front of the Slytherin. Blaise’s voice and demeanor had lost all of their previous playfulness. 

“Yes,” Harry prompted when Blaise didn’t immediately continue his statement.

“Come here, Harry,” the Italian beckoned. “I want you Harry,” Blaise said evenly, staring into the Gryffindor’s eyes. He wanted Harry to understand that he was completely serious; this wasn’t a joke to him. 

“You what?” Harry rasped. 

“I am your friend,” the Slytherin paused as Harry nodded. “But, I want to be more than that.”

Harry swallowed, and his throat felt like sandpaper. “More than a friend?” He felt like a complete dunce, repeating everything the Italian was saying, but he couldn’t muster much more than that. 

“I know I have not been very explicit in the past, but I want to be clear now. I think you are amazing Harry,” Blaise said, pushing away the duvet at his waist and moving onto his knees before Harry and placing his hand on his crimson cheek. “You are intelligent, determined, kind and forgiving. I have learned that and so much more about you in the last few weeks, and I know that even if we were not stuck together I would still want to be around you all of the time.” Blaise searched the Gryffindor’s face, but Harry remained silent, so he decided to press his advantage while he had the chance. 

“I apologize for last night. I really did only intend to give you a relaxing massage, but I lost control of myself, and I do not want you to get the wrong impression. I will be honest; Draco was not lying about me earlier. I like to have sex and lots of it,” he shook his head and chuckled ruefully. “My mother says that I get that particular aspect of my character from my father’s side of the family. She says that all Zabini men are deviants.” 

Harry couldn’t help but smile with Blaise at that moment. Harry had no fond memories of family to reminisce about, so he wouldn’t begrudge Blaise this moment even if he was talking about sex fiends.

“Nevertheless, I think my mother would be surprised to see me like this,” Blaise said, pulling Harry closer. “I want to be different with you. I know you can handle yourself; I see you do it on a daily basis, but, regardless, I want to handle you gently and be there for you no matter what. I want to be a constant in your life, and I want you to constantly be in mine, regardless of this bond between us. Do you understand, Harry?” 

The Gryffindor took a shuddering breath. How could be not understand? The two boys were less than a foot apart with Blaise’s hands planted firmly on Harry’s waist. Harry didn’t know what to do with his own, so he rested them lightly on Blaise’s forearms and nodded. “You,” he began haltingly, “you want to be my boyfriend…or something?” 

Harry asked. In this situation he was loathe to assume anything. 

“Yes,” Blaise said, planting a light kiss on Harry’s cheek. “I’m your confidante now, your friend and study partner, but I also want to take you out on dates and buy you nice things. I want you to meet my mother and see my home,” Blaise continued, placing another kiss on Harry’s opposite cheek and then his chin before his moving to his forehead. “You should know by now that you do not have to do everything alone; let me help you and be there for you,” Blaise finished as he leaned in and captured Harry’s lips.

\---:::---

Harry’s mind was buzzing as were his lips. As soon as Blaise began speaking, Harry became hyper aware of everything, the light filtering in between his curtains and the cool air following directly on its heels, the shifting of covers as his dorm mates tossed and turned in their beds. Even more acutely, he noticed Blaise’s hot hands on his body, the heat of his breath on his lips, and the tilt of his head as he leaned in to kiss him.

Harry groaned as soon as Blaise's lips met his and his hands clenched the Slytherin's arms for support as he leaned into his embrace.

Harry's lips were as sweet as Blaise had imagined. He couldn't resist, pulling the boy flush against him and taking complete control of the kiss, probing the Gryffindor's lips and seeking entrance to his hot mouth. 

Abruptly, Blaise sat back on his heels and pulled Harry onto his lap, grinding up into his pert bottom. His hands slid down and around to cup Harry’s cheeks, kneading them beneath his fingers; he loved Harry’s arse. Blaise’s cock throbbed and stirred to life as Harry moaned into his mouth and moved to card his hands through the Slytherin’s wavy brown locks. He could feel Harry’s burgeoning erection pressing into his abdomen as he pulled Harry tighter into his chest, squeezing the Gryffindor’s cock between their bodies. 

Harry threw his head back and bit his lip – stifling his wanton moan – and ground his hips into Blaise. He’d never felt this good before. Sparks were bursting behind his eyelids and racing down his spine. Adrenalin rushed through his veins and pooled low in his groin, fueling his arousal. 

“Unn…Blaise,” Harry moaned. 

Blaise dipped his head and bit down hard on Harry’s shoulder before licking sensuously at the reddening skin. 

“More, Blaise,” Harry begged. This was better than any of the times the Gryffindor had masturbated alone, and, as he thought about all of the days he’d been sharing a bed with his sexy Slytherin, he couldn’t for the life of him figure out why they hadn’t done this sooner. 

Blaise was desperate for more friction; he’d been dreaming about this moment for more than a week now, and he wanted it to last as long as possible, but he couldn’t deny the heat gathering in his loins, drawing up his testicles, preparing for release. With a jerky movement he thrust his feet out from beneath him and laid down on his back, positioning Harry directly over his cock. 

“Ride me, Harry,” he commanded in a thick gasping breath, grabbing handfuls of Harry’s arse and helping him grind down over his erection. 

Harry groaned and blushed; they were practically fucking on his bed, and the Gryffindor couldn’t be sure if he was more relieved or frustrated that both of their pajama bottoms were still on. He closed his eyes and leaned forward, lying flush against Blaise’s chest to regain the heated pressure against his own cock. 

“That’s it Harry,” Blaise moaned, winding his arms around Harry’s back and pulling him tighter to his chest. What the Slytherin really wanted and needed at that moment was a nice hard wall to slam his little Gryffindor against, but this was still nice. When he felt Harry’s hesitant tongue, run along the pulsing vein in his neck, Blaise thrust upwards and groaned loudly, praying that the silencing charms from last night were still intact. Not giving it a second thought, he rolled them over and began to trust downwards onto Harry, rutting against him fervidly, and thrusting his hands up Harry’s oversized shirt to pinch and rub his nipples. 

Harry hissed and met his thrusts enthusiastically, “Harder, Blaise…please,” he whined and grabbed Blaise’s ribs, running his nails down the glistening skin. 

Blaise grunted as his climax came closer and closer, “You like this Harry?” He asked, opening his eyes to take in Harry’s tousled hair, kiss-bruised lips, and bright blush. 

Harry didn’t answer, but the answer was evident to Blaise as Harry tossed his head from side to side before he pinned the Slytherin with the most lustful, sexy expression Blaise had ever seen. Committing, that image to memory, Blaise came like a freight train, exploding in his pants. As he collapsed against Harry, he could feel the heat pooling against his stomach from Harry’s release. 

“Shit,” he moaned, “I cannot believe I just came in my pants like a third year,” Blaise groaned as nuzzled Harry neck and shoulder. 

Harry laughed breathlessly, and pushed at Blaise so he could move a little, “It can’t be all bad. At least we have magic,” he said, turning slightly to grab his wand from beneath his pillow, banishing the sticky semen from their pants. 

Blaise steadied himself above Harry on his forearms and bent down to kiss his Gryffindor chastely on the lips. “You’re a dream,” he said with a wry smile on his lips.

Harry blushed a pretty pink as he grabbed Blaise behind the neck, tugging him down for another kiss.

\---:::---

Draco eyed the two boys closely at lunch later in the afternoon; Harry and Blaise were sitting much closer than usual and cozying up to each other too sweetly. Given Blaise’s confession in potions, Draco wasn’t surprised by the heated glances and the light, solicitous touches Blaise was giving Harry, but Harry’s behavior was surprising indeed. The boy wasn’t just reciprocating; he was initiating at least half, if not more, of their interactions.

“Something’s different with you two,” Draco said, looking around to see if they had any eavesdroppers nearby. The three boys had decided to lunch outside – courtesy of Dobby – since the weather was fairly mild for October, and this way neither of the boys would have to hide beneath the invisibility cloak during the meal.

The blonde arched an eyebrow when Harry blushed seemingly without provocation and Blaise only smirked. 

“Hmm,” Draco mumbled, taking another bite of his beef sandwich. “You shagged didn’t you?”

Harry chocked on his pumpkin juice and Blaise only grinned wider. The Gryffindor was saved from having to respond or field anymore of Draco’s inquiries when a regal barn owl flew over their heads, dropping a letter onto Harry’s plate before flying back towards the Hogwarts owlery. It was one of the school’s owls, so the letter could have been from any of the professors or any of the students. Harry had a feeling it was either from Dumbledore or Snape, but as he couldn’t be too sure, he removed his wand and cast several detection spells on the parchment.  
“It seems to be okay,” he muttered, picking it up. 

“Who is it from Harry,” Blaise asked, leaning over towards the Gryffindor to read over his shoulder.

“I don’t know. It’s unmarked,” Harry said, flipped the parchment up to read the short missive. 

_Dungeons 6:00pm sharp. Do not be late._

“Snape wants to meet us in the dungeons tonight at 6:00pm. I’m assuming he means the two of us,” Harry said, passing the note to Blaise who promptly burned it with a well-directed incendio. 

Draco sat back and yawned. “I wonder if I should go as well. I’ve been informed that I must help with this…issue, but I’m not sure if I’ll be needed tonight, and I need to start on McGonagall’s assignment.” 

Harry nodded and sipped his juice, “I’m not sure. It didn’t say.” 

Draco merely shrugged and retrieved a folded parchment from the inside folds of his robes. 

“Here Potter, it’s from my mother. She sends her regards,” he said, passing the letter to Harry. 

Harry arched an eyebrow and grabbed the letter again testing it for curses, hexes, transportation spells. 

Draco rolled his eyes and shook his head, “Seriously Potter, you would think as a Gryffindor you’d be more trusting.” 

“I’d rather be safe than sorry,” Harry mumbled after finding only the remnants of very strong privacy and warding spells. Shifting into a more comfortable position, he unfolded the missive and allowed Blaise to read over his shoulder for the second time. 

_Hello Draco dear,_

_I am glad to hear that you are well and that your studies are progressing as they should. Your father and I cannot be more proud of you; you have maintained the Malfoy standard well in spite of your extra-curricular endeavours. I have spoken with your father at length, and we both have decided to trust your judgment in regards to your Yule holiday plans. I only ask if you have room for one more. Our previous plans have proved dull and tedious, and we too desire a change from our usual engagements. However, we did invite a great many friends to join us this year, and your cousin Rabastan would like to accompany us to our new destination._

_Make haste with your reply, dear Draco, so that your father, cousin, and I may plan according. Surely you must realize how delicate and detailed this process will be, so we desire as much time as possible to arrange suitable accommodations._

_Warm regards,  
Your mother, Narcissa Malfoy nee Black. _

Harry arched an eyebrow and looked at Draco over the top of the parchment. “Does your mother always talk like this?” 

The beginnings of a scowl crossed Draco’s face, “What are you talking about Potter?” They may be on friendlier terms, and he truly was grateful for Harry’s help with the Dark Lord, but he wouldn’t allow anyone to insult his mother.

“It’s so cryptic and just… _odd_ , this letter. If it weren’t for the fact that I knew what she was referring to I would be hopelessly confused. Yet, at the same time, this entire thing,” he waved the letter, “seems so suspicious.”

“Oh, that was only for the sake of privacy. Normally, her letters are a touch more personal. Now, my father on the other hand,” Draco said with a smirk, “usually does write his letters in that fashion.”

Blaise nodded, taking the letter from Harry and burning it in the same manner as the previous one, “My uncles write similarly.” 

Harry scratched his head, “I don’t know how you can stand to decode every letter you receive.”

Blaise smiled down at him and shrugged, “You get used to it, but what do you think about the letter?” 

“Hm,” Harry hummed noncommittally, closing his eyes and trying to work things out. He hadn’t thought about having another person under his protection, and he honestly didn’t know much about Rabastan Lestrange at all, assuming that was who Mrs. Malfoy was referring to. “Blaise,” he said, turning to his boyfriend with a blush. Every time he thought of the Slytherin as his boyfriend he couldn’t help but blush. “Can you erect a few privacy wards, so we can speak freely?”

“Yes, Harry,” Blaise assented easily, smiling broadly at Harry’s cherry blush, “Whatever you want.” 

Draco’s eyes narrowed in thought. _Yes, there’s definitely something going on there._

Clearing his throat and ignoring Blaise’s blatant teasing, Harry turned back to the blonde before him, “What can you tell me about Rabastan, Draco? I don’t know much about him, except that he’s the brother of Rodolphus who is married to Bellatrix. Both brothers and your aunt were sentenced to Azkaban for torturing the Longbottoms, but other than that I don’t know anything about them.” 

“He escaped from Azkaban recently with your aunt and his brother right,” Blaise offered helpfully as he slid a little closer to Harry, sneaking his last apple slice.

“Hey!” Harry exclaimed, reaching up trying to snag the stolen fruit, “I was going to eat that,” he complained with a smile as Blaise held it out of reach. 

“Here,” the Slytherin smirked and placed the slice halfway into his mouth, “I’ll share with you,” he mumbled around the sweet apple, leaning towards Harry’s mouth. 

Harry eyes widened precipitously, and he flicked his eyes towards Draco. 

“Ugh,” the blonde groaned, “You’re going to make me puke,” he whined, covering his eyes. “You look like a fifth year Hufflepuff couple. From here on out, I’ll be sure to stay even further away from Gryffindors if they turn respectable Slytherins into flirting gits.”

Blaise only sidled up closer to Harry and bit the apple in half before sliding one piece between Harry’s lips. Harry couldn’t help lapping at his fingertips as they lingered in his mouth. He hid a smile as Blaise’s body went rigid.

“So, you were telling me about your cousin,” Harry prompted with a smile, ignoring Blaise’s suggestive expression. 

Draco rolled his eyes dramatically and muttered, “Freaking Gryffindors, my best friend has been turned into this unrecognizable thing.” He gagged teasingly, “I really am going to be sick.”

“Well,” Blaise prompted his friend, skillfully ignoring his somewhat childish antics. 

Draco cleared his throat and sat up regally as if giving a speech in the presence of the minister. “I do not know much about Rabastan Lestrange either as I was a mere babe when he was sent to Azkaban, but I do know that my mother remembers him fondly, and that he used to be really close your godfather, Sirius Black, before they were sorted into different houses. He was apparently really close to his older brother, Rodolphus, too and was eventually convinced to follow him and his father to the Dark Lord’s throne. They were skillful and rose quickly in the death eater ranks, but-”

Blaise arched an eyebrow, “And you believe Harry should offer him sanctuary as well?”

Draco was conflicted and hesitated to answer, choosing his next words carefully, “As I mentioned earlier, I don’t really know him, but my mother does desire that you offer him sanctuary, Harry,” Draco answered, turning to the Gryffindor. 

“I trust my mother’s judgment, and from the little I have heard her speak of him he seems as disillusioned about the Dark Lord as my parents and I are. I- I know that he had made some mistakes in the past, but so have my parents, and-”

Harry nodded and ran a hand down his face, “I get it.” He couldn’t very well offer Draco’s parents sanctuary without extending his hand to this man as well, especially if he was genuinely asking for help. Besides, one less man on the Voldemort’s side, especially one as close to him as Rabastan Lestrange, was a good thing.

“We will need a way to guarantee his sincerity,” Blaise said. 

Draco nodded, “Of course, that is to be expected.”

\---:::---

“Again,” Snape’s baritone rang through the dungeons.

Draco watched silently – taking notes for his godfather – while Blaise began to take very hesitant steps away from Harry in the center of Severus’ private potions labs. They’d been at it for a couple of hours already, and the strain was beginning to show in both boys.

The blonde could tell that the bond was becoming more tenable with each effort. Harry and Blaise could now rejoin without the magical whiplash which had led to some pretty nasty falls earlier that evening, but it didn’t seem like the pain was decreasing at all. In fact, they seemed to be making matters worse the longer they continued. The pain they described wasn’t diminishing although the amount of time and the distance they could stand outside of the bond’s threshold was increasing steadily. Draco allowed Blaise and Harry’s growing tolerance for the pain to account for that fact.

Harry ground his teeth, and Draco could see the muscles in his neck and arms tensing. Turning to face his roommate, he could see Blaise visibly trembling with effort as he took his fifth step beyond the markers on ground, denoting their current threshold which was currently around thirty-five feet. Draco scribbled quickly on his parchment as Blaise began to rush forward towards Harry. 

“Ugh,” Blaise groaned as his hands clenched Harry’s biceps and he drug the Gryffindor to his knees as he collapsed with relief onto the floor. Draco winced in sympathy, hoping for Blaise’s sake that this would be the last time for tonight. 

“Again,” Snape barked as he adjusted the wards around the boys testing a different property of the bond this time. 

Blaise closed his eyes in resignation; they hadn’t been sitting on the floor for long before Snape had called out to him, and for however much he put on a brave face he really felt that he was coming apart at the seams. Every time he stepped away from Harry even within the thirty-five feet was nerve-wracking. Clearly, there was some classical conditioning going on. _Leave Harry and anticipate pain…_ even if there is none. It was obvious to Blaise that Harry felt the same because even though they no longer needed the physical contact directly after separation, Harry was always petting Blaise’s hair or rubbing his bare skin when they were close, and the Gryffindor was reluctant to stop every time they had to separate. Not that Blaise was complaining, everywhere the boy touched it was like a cool balm to his burning skin, and he dreaded the moment Harry would step away. Only his intense willpower kept him from clinging to Harry when his head of house ordered them apart. 

Harry shook his hand as he smoothed Blaise’s hair from his sweaty forehead. “No,” he answered.  
Snape narrowed his eyes, preparing to demand that he move his arse and begin again, but he was interrupted by Blaise's raspy voice. 

“It’s okay Harry,” Blaise smiled weakly from his position on the floor, “we’re actually making progress, and it’s really not that bad,” he tried to reassure him.

Harry frowned. It was true; they were making progress and learning a lot about the nuances of the bond. Their most important discovery was that their pain upon separation varied, depending on whom the magic perceived was instigating the increase in distance. Currently, Blaise was the instigator, walking away from Harry across Snape’s lab repeatedly until he collapsed. This was the tenth time in the last hour, and Blaise was obviously suffering. Harry had never seen him so beaten down. 

The second largest discovery was that the pain caused by the bond wasn’t doing much, if any, damage to their bodies. It was merely stimulating their nerves a little, but mostly the magic was localized in the brain, stimulating their pain receptors, similar to the cruciatus curse. 

Regardless of their progress, Harry shook his head and shifted, pillowing Blaise’s head on his lap, “Please Sir,” he looked up at his professor. “We need to stop for now.” He was asking politely, but Harry had no intention of taking no for an answer. Blaise couldn’t take much more, and even Harry was beginning to feel fatigued and achy. He could only imagine how Blaise was feeling. 

Snape looked at the boys on his laboratory floor before he gave sharp nod and strode over to his the supply cabinet. 

Harry was beyond grateful for the reprieve, “I thought you were going to be the death of us,” he said mostly to himself.

Snape scoffed, “You’re one to talk brat,” he snorted, handing the Gryffindor two pain-relieving potions, one for himself and one for Blaise. 

Harry smiled at his professor before he uncorked Blaise’s vial and handed it to him. He watched intently for a second while the Slytherin drank the bitter concoction. Harry only breathed a sigh of relief and imbibed his own potion when Blaise’s hand stopped trembling.

\---:::---

“Mirror Harry,” Snape said as the boys began to make their way out of his laboratory and into the empty translation room. This was only Harry’s second time in the room, so it wasn’t surprising, the amount of awe Harry felt at the intricate magic his professor had woven into the castle, but honestly Harry was sure that he would still be astounded by it twenty years from now.

The room was indeed similar to the spinning room Harry recalled in the Department of mysteries, but instead of revolving doors, this room was very dim and completely bare upon entering into it. The only door available was the one through which you entered. From there, those keyed into the wards had to magically summon the door of the room they were looking for. Furthermore, they were informed that even if you were keyed into the wards, most visitors only had limited access. 

For Harry and Blaise, that meant that they could summon the doors for the sitting room and laboratory. Presumably, Draco could summon a few more than that, but Harry doubted that even he had unrestricted access to all Severus’ rooms. 

As amazing as all of this was, Harry could imagine that it could be a little tedious at times, but he wasn’t surprised by this level of security from the paranoid potions master. Besides, there was a large hearth in the lab, and Harry wouldn’t be surprised if each room had its own floo connection, so the professor could floo directly into each room when necessary. 

“Hm,” Harry asked, turning about to face his Professor and searching for Blaise’s hand in the dark. They’d had to separate to enter the room, but he could feel the bond’s magic buzzing beneath his skin, and he had a very strong desire to feel Blaise’s skin against his own.

“I would like to speak with Black. It is evident that you two will not be able to have multiple sessions a week, slowing our progress on the bond, but in the interim we will begin working on your godfather’s problem. I will still expect you two down here regularly to help with the process,” he reminded them. 

“However, Draco, you do not have to attend those particular meetings if you do not want to. I assume that Potter has informed you about his godfather, Sirius Black.”

Draco nodded, “Yes, he has.” 

“Good, I will need to speak with Black tonight while you two,” he paused to summon the door for his warm sitting room, “convalesce,” he finished. “I will send a note when I would like you two to return. I have some ideas about how to retrieve Black, but they are largely dependent on magic I am not overly familiar or fond of. For that reason, I have enlisted some help, an expert if you will.” At Harry’s dubious expression, he added, “A trustworthy expert who I imagine you will be happy to see.”

The Gryffindor’s brow creased in speculation as he tried to figure out who Snape might be referring to. 

“Yo Severus, I took the liberty of flooing directly into your sitting room after receiving your letter. Oi, hi Harry, long time no see little brother.”

Harry looked up and met clear blue eyes and vibrant red hair, pulled back into a low ponytail over the man’s shoulder. The Gryffindor cocked his head. He seemed to have grown even taller in the last year that Harry had seen him, and his hair was certainly longer, coming to a stop down the middle of his pecks. He still wore that dangling earring with the fang at the end in his left ear; he still looked like a muggle rock star in his black button down shirt, tight dragon hide pants, and tall boots, and he was still the _coolest_ guy Harry had ever met.

Harry smiled tiredly, “Hi Bill.” The brunette couldn’t imagine how Bill would be helping, but Harry didn’t doubt that the redhead knew all sorts of spells, as a Gringotts curse breaker, that they weren’t privy to.

\---:::---

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys hope you enjoyed the chapter! As always please read and review. :) I just wanted to ask this quick question. Do any of you know where I could find some Harry/Blaise fanart or know where I could maybe commission some (for free lol) or are any of you good at drawing? I wanted to add a picture for my profile, but I couldn't find any so I might just stick with a pic of Harry, but I just thought I'd ask. Thanks. :)


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry guys! I almost forgot to upload today's chapter Oopsie! Here it is! I really hope you all enjoy it! Read and Review!

**Chapter 10**

“Now that introductions have been made,” Snape drawled, “Potter, why don’t you tell Bill exactly why we desire his assistance.”

Harry cocked an eyebrow; he didn’t know any better than Bill why the Weasley was called here.

Severus sighed, “As stated in my letter, you are sworn to secrecy if you decide to help us,” the potions master began, waiting for Bill’s nod of confirmation before continuing. “Potter here has discovered that his godfather, Sirius Black, is still alive, floating – for lack of a better word – in some suspended state between this realm of life and the afterlife, and he wants…only Merlin knows why,” Severus muttered, “to retrieve him and inflict his irritating presence on us all once more.” 

Blaise snorted and Draco smirked; they were both clearly amused, but Harry, taking a good look at his potions professor, could tell that the man wasn’t as annoyed by the prospect of Sirius’ recovery as he made out.

“I have spoken with the mutt extensively,” Severus continued, “and the issue is that Black has no idea whatsoever where he is. There are no defining features of this realm, and it is largely enshrouded in shadow. He claims that he can hardly see his hand before his face, and the only light he ever discerns is from this side when we communicate with him via the two-way mirror.”

“Two-way mirror?” 

Harry nodded, “It’s a mirror that my father and Sirius used in the past to speak with each other when they were in separate detentions here at Hogwarts,” Harry snickered. “For some reason or another, it still works now.”

“Interesting,” Bill mumbled.

“In any case,” Severus began again, “I thought your expertise might be of use here as we have no idea how to go about reaching him because we do not know where he is or how to get there without simply walking into the veil ourselves, and we cannot be sure that the veil will eject us into the same realm where Black currently resides or how large the place might be. Pinpointing his location after we get there might be nigh on impossible, and that still leaves the issue of returning if we can locate him at all. Bearing in mind the fact that you have spent a considerable amount of time entering dangerous tombs and crypts in Egypt, I had hoped that you might at least be able to provide us with a starting point.” 

Bill leaned back on the loveseat across from Harry and the Zabini boy and focused on the ceiling in deep thought; the very idea that Sirius Black was still alive and trying to escape yet another impenetrable prison was astounding to Bill. The man was tenacious in every sense of the word. Returning to the problem at hand, Bill began to speak. 

“It seems to me that the best option here would be the Rasozm portal. In theory, it is a portal that can be created by any witch or wizard who desires access to a place that has been heretofore denied to them. We use it in Egypt in the most extreme cases because it is difficult to maintain, and it has a number of steps that could lead to serious injury or death if done incorrectly,” Bill said seriously.

“Do we need access to the veil,” Harry asked with determination evident on his face. “Getting back into the ministry would probably be even more impossible than it was the last time, and admittedly I am hesitant to go back there.”

Snape snorted but maintained his peace as he bustled about his sitting room. To what end, only he knew.

Bill shook his head, “No, Harry this spell doesn’t necessarily mandate that we use that specific gateway just that we use some other entrance point to the area we want to access.” The redhead watched as Harry visibly deflated, slumping into the Slytherin boy’s loose embrace. 

“We don’t have another entrance to Mr. Black’s realm,” Zabini said quietly. 

Bill grinned, “That’s not exactly true is it,” he asked cryptically. 

“Just what are you getting at Weasley?” Snape asked, returning to the center of the room, eyeing the eldest Weasley son critically. “It has been a long day, and we are all tired. Might you get to the point?”

Bill nodded, “This mirror you’ve been talking about, the one you use in order to speak with Sirius should be enough to do the trick. It is a gateway through which you currently have access to that space, and if we turn that into a portal large enough to pass through, we should be able to enter and retrieve your godfather, Harry.” 

Snape nodded slowly as he pondered that idea for a while. He didn’t see why it wouldn’t work although he had little to no idea how such a feat would be achieved. Turning about to search out his whiskey, he left Bill to further explain as he knew that the man wouldn’t have suggested the plan if he didn’t know how to execute it. 

Harry’s eyes lit up. “Why didn’t I think of that,” Harry exclaimed. “It’s brilliant!” 

Draco rolled his eyes, “Yes, it is a brilliant idea Potter, so don’t beat yourself up that _you_ didn’t think of it,” he teased with a grin. “Besides, who would have actually thought of this,” Draco waved. “Honestly, it seems impossible.”

“Yes, but we are wizards; my very existence presupposes the fact that nothing is truly impossible. I mean look at Blaise and I,” Harry said gesturing to himself. 

Bill cocked his questioningly, hoping that the Gryffindor would elaborate because he really wanted to know what was going on between Harry and the Zabini boy. It didn’t escape his notice that they were sitting very closely and that at any given time Zabini had his hand on Harry, caressing every inch of skin available to him: Harry’s hand, wrists, the side and back of neck. It seemed like a comforting gesture, but from the fleeting pained look on his face when Harry shifted out of his reach for even a second, Bill wasn’t sure who the caresses were meant to soothe more, Harry or Zabini. The most surprising thing was that Harry initiated the contact as much as Zabini did, and the redhead knew that Severus at least must have noticed, yet he gave no indication that he was surprised or cared in the least. 

“Stop your pouting Potter,” Snape said, reentering the room with a bottle of scotch and now divested of his teaching robes. “I know the mutt means a lot to you, but once again I will point out the obvious,” he said in exasperation, pinching the bridge of his nose. “You don’t have to do everything on your own,” he said, making himself and, upon second consideration the other adult in the room as well, a scotch on the rocks as this would _hopefully_ be a long, productive evening.

Harry looked around at everyone in the room, his eyes lingering the longest on Blaise and Professor Snape. Logically, he knew that what Snape said was true, but for the longest time – probably since the beginning of fourth year – he couldn’t help but subconsciously feel that he had to carry his burdens on his own.

“You have us now, Harry,” Blaise said, easily throwing an arm around the boy’s shoulders while Draco leveled him with a genuine, albeit tiny, smile. Blaise rolled his eyes, “Whether you want all of us or not is the real question here.”

“Hmpf, wants us?” Draco snorted, “He’s lucky to have me, and he knows it.” 

Bill arched an eyebrow and smirked at the antics before him. He never thought he’d be in a room full of Slytherins and feel so at ease; granted he was older now and didn’t give much thought to house rivalries anymore. Besides, even as a student he mostly left the house animosity on the pitch. However, he did wonder where his brother and the Granger girl were. He didn’t know the girl that well, but those three had seemed pretty close from what he’d seen in the past. Bill found it hard to believe that they wouldn’t be around for something as ambitious as this. 

“Now Bill, tell us the specifics of this portal you have in mind,” Severus said, passing the redhead a scotch. Before Bill could respond, Snape turned to find Draco in the only other open seat in the room which just happened to be _his_ seat. He cleared his throat and leveled his godson with a hard glare, “Draco…”

“Yes, godfather,” Draco prompted, never taking his eyes from the section of stone positioned just above Bill’s right shoulder. The Slytherin was in a slightly confused daze. The longer they had all sat there talking, the more difficult it became to tear his eyes away from the Weasley in front of him. Subconsciously, he knew that he was seated in his godfather’s favorite arm chair, but he couldn’t imagine sitting beside the sexy older Gryffindor in front of him. Draco just couldn’t come to terms with the fact that he found a Gryffindor, a Weasley no less, sexually attractive. There was no denying that the man was sex on a stick. How could he be so vastly different from his brothers? Granted, those twins weren’t so bad to look at, but the other Weasleys couldn’t hold a candle to this one. Draco flicked his eyes down to the man and averted his gaze immediately upon connecting with those amused blue eyes, and teasing, smirking pink lips. 

Draco knew that his parents would be appalled at how transparent he was behaving at the moment, but he was hardly at fault. The Weasley was making him do it, he pouted.

“Move your arse out of my chair,” Severus drawled in an even tone.

Draco gave himself a slight mental shake and stood to conjure an arm chair for himself as a last ditch effort to put some space between himself and the eldest Weasley. 

Severus arched an eyebrow at his godson’s lifted wand, “Just sit on the couch for Merlin’s sake, Draco.”

Draco ended the incantation midway through and swallowed a woeful sigh, never had he felt more betrayed by his godfather than at that moment. The seat before him was by no means a couch. It was an odious, albeit tasteful, matching loveseat to the one Potter and Blaise were seated in. Upon taking his seat, Draco wasn’t imagining the sizzling heat emanating from Bill’s solid thigh that was pressed against his, and the Slytherin certainly wasn’t fabricating the heat pooling in his lower stomach and groin as a result. Never in his life had he felt such an onslaught of concentrated lust. 

“Now,” Severus said again, settling comfortably in his cushioned chair, “Bill, please give us the details of your plan.”

Bill smirked at the stiff teenager beside him and took a sip of the bitter alcohol Severus had given him. Bill, himself, preferred America’s Bourbon whiskey to Scotch whiskey, but he could certainly appreciate Snape’s tastes. This was an exquisite vintage. 

“Basically, the Rasozm portal is a portal named after the goblin Rasozm Stoneraider who created it along with the infamous thief Robin Hood. Muggles believe Hood to be a benevolent thief advocating for the poor peasants in England’s past, but that is hardly the truth. He was a villainous thief, and along with his side-kick Rasozm they created a portal that could be used to enter and exit even the most closely guarded Goblin vault.” 

Harry nodded; he wasn’t surprised that a Goblin, who naturally coveted anything of great wealth and value, might join forces with a talented, like-minded wizard thief. It was interesting to find out that Robin Hood was a wizard though. Still, as fascinating as the history was, he wanted to hear about the nuances of the portal so they could begin preparations for it soon.

“Alright, how does it work?” Harry prompted.

“Well,” Bill began, taking another sip of his drink and shifting to sit more comfortably beside Draco, fluidly sliding his arm along the back of the loveseat around the Slytherin’s shoulders. He crossed his feet at the ankles and frowned, “It is a very difficult and complicated process. There are many criteria that must be met before such a portal can be attempted, and there are many different potions necessary to sustain the individuals using the portal by bolstering their bodies. In this case, those potions would be even more important than usual considering the fact that we don’t know how our bodies might react to the area on Sirius’ side of the veil. No one has ever tried to retrieve someone from behind the veil before, so there’s no supposing what may happen.” 

Severus nodded, “I had thought of that, but I was hoping there would be an alternative where no one would necessarily have to cross over. Still, I have prepared for such an occasion, so I do not believe it will be an issue, between myself and Draco here, to brew whatever potions are necessary.”

Bill nodded, “Yes, that will expedite things a little, but there is one potion that we must obtain from the goblins at Gringotts. Normally, this wouldn’t be an issue because we only use this portal for sanctioned extractions ordered by the goblins.” 

“So you foresee an issue getting the potion from them because it is not a project worth their while?” Blaise asked. 

“Yes,” Bill nodded, “but this is more than just a matter of gold. They won’t just sell it to us because they’re afraid that it will put Gringotts’ security in jeopardy if this portal became widely known and implemented. I’m breaking about thirty rules just speaking of it to you.” 

Draco shivered, given the nature of his forsaken mission from the Dark Lord, he could only imagine what he and his Death Eaters could do with knowledge of such a portal. “What exactly does this potion do,” Draco asked, taking his mind off of those morbid thoughts and speaking up for the first time since claiming his seat next to Bill. Every time the man moved, his cologne and spicy scent wafted towards Draco, stunning him with its subtle potency. “Why can’t we brew it ourselves?”

“Because,” Bill smirked, removing his hand from the back of the couch and turning to face his neighbor more directly, “it contains an ingredient that we cannot acquire on our own, Stoneraider’s blood.” 

“Oh for the love of Merlin! You can’t be serious Bill!” Harry exclaimed, throwing his arms up.

The redhead grinned, “I assure you I am very serious.” 

“And,” Severus interjected smoothly, forestalling any further exclamations from Harry, “I assume that the portal will not function properly without the goblin’s blood.” 

“Correct, this is a blood ritual, and it takes blood from most if not all of the participants– depending on the number of people helping, but Stoneraider’s blood is the blood that brings the incantation and therefore the portal to life.” 

Harry groaned. “So what do we do?” 

The expression that crossed Bill’s face was one that Harry had only ever seen on four people: Sirius Black, Severus Snape, Fred Weasley, and George Weasley. They were all men Harry respected and in most cases loved, but for one reason or another he had reason to fear them all, just a little bit. The Gryffindor had a strong feeling that he wasn’t going to like what Bill had to say in the least.

“We are going to have to steal it from them.”

\---:::---

Draco’s jaw was hanging limply as he gaped at the man beside him. He was clearly off his rocker if he thought that was possible. No one stole from the goblins except other goblins, and if there was one thing they learned from Binn’s classes, it was that theft had incited every single one of the goblin wars since the beginning of written history. They didn’t take theft lightly, and if they were going to incite the ire of millions of goblin, then they may as well stay on the other side of the veil with Black because they would certainly be headed back there immediately.

“You want us to steal from the goblins,” Blaise asked in a flat, skeptical voice.

“Yes, but don’t worry,” Bill waved him off. “It can be done. It has been before,” he said with a secret smile. “We will have time to plan it, but I hope you don’t mind inducting two more people into your secret club here because I’ll need my brothers’ help.” 

“The twins,” Harry inquired. At Bill’s subsequent nod, Harry immediately turned to Severus with a nod. 

“I will need them to help me get the potion from the goblins at the very least,” Bill said. In the last year, the twins’ business had been growing substantially, and that wasn’t because they were completely legitimate businessmen like their parents believed. Fred and George had become very adept at acquiring certain items necessary for the growth and innovation of their joke shop, necessary things that weren’t exactly legal within the British borders, and since this was an unsanctioned use of the portal, Bill and the others wouldn’t have the goblins support in petitioning the Ministry to allow the use of certain contraband ingredients for this ritual. That’s where the twins’ expertise would come in. 

Snape sighed heavily, “They will not touch one thing in my lab, or I will use _them_ as _my_ personal guinea pigs before cutting them up and selling the parts, understand?” he asked, eyeing each body before him.

Bill laughed a rich laugh before nodding and assuring the ornery potions master that he’ll see that his brothers behave. “I’ll have to talk to a couple of my colleagues to take some time off to help you all prepare. I did mention other criteria we will need to make this a successful attempt though. Harry you have already fulfilled one, so we just need to find a grounding force.”

“Weasley,” Snape interrupted, “please stop speaking as if we already know much of what you’re talking about. Which criteria has Potter fulfilled, and what exactly do you mean by grounding force?”

Bill smiled sheepishly, “Right, in order to find what we’re looking for when we go on a dig and are forced to use a blind portal such as this one – meaning that the portal will grant us access to the space we desire but can and will deposit us anywhere within that space with no regards to the location of the item we are seeking – we have to have some sort of magical connection to that item that will enable us to locate it after we have passed through the portal. Even if we can see the item or in this case person from this side of the portal, we more than likely won’t end up anywhere near them, depending on how large the space is.” 

“This is getting more and more complicated,” Harry mumbled, leaning back into the couch to rest a little. He could really use another one of Blaise’s massages tonight, he thought with a pink blush. Considering the bags forming beneath Blaise’s eyes though, Harry figured he wouldn’t be up for it, and more than likely the Slytherin needed a soothing back rub more than Harry did. 

“For that reason, we need someone with a familial or magical to tie to the object we’re searching for. In Egypt, because we’re normally entering tombs and crypts beneath the pyramids, we find descendants of the deceased buried with the treasure and have them go with us through the portal. Through the use of certain spells and a potion, a visible connection can be formed between the person and object, leading us directly to it. As Sirius’ godson, Harry, you have a magical connection to him, established on your naming day, that we can utilize to find him anywhere beyond the veil.”

“You want Harry to go beyond the veil,” Blaise asked, fully attentive now. He wasn’t liking this one bit. 

Bill arched another inquiring eyebrow at the protective, possessive arm curling around Harry’s waist. “Alright, what is going on between the two of you,” he asked bluntly. 

Snape spoke up to answer Bill’s question, once again inadvertently becoming the group’s peacemaker. The potions master was very attentive, a skill he’d picked by necessity, and he could easily see Blaise’s growing attachment and consequent protective urges towards Potter. The last thing Snape wanted or needed was a pointless brawl in the center of his sitting room. 

“In the pursuit of expedience, I will explain. These two dunderheads here accidentally created a bond – tethered to their magical cores – between them that is highly volatile. It sustains itself and grows by feeding off their own magic, but it is strangely not parasitic. There are no adverse effects except for the fact that they cannot separate. Currently, they cannot even move fifty feet from each other without essentially being punished by the bond’s magic.”

Bill’s eyes opened wide, and he stared at Harry and Zabini in utter shock. That would explain why they were comfortable sitting nearly on top of each other for the last hour or so. “How did this happen, and what do mean by punishment, Severus,” Bill asked, stiffly. The separation limit Severus was speaking of could make this process really difficult. 

“We created this bond when we were experimenting with a… spell for charms class,” Harry began, flicking his eyes to Draco, hoping to keep their charms project a secret just a bit longer. Draco merely smirked and rolled his eyes. “So, somehow this bond functions like the accio charm from hell, constantly pulling us together. Consequently, we experience excruciating pain if we’re separated beyond the limits of the bond, but those limits are growing every day,” Harry answered. 

“Very slowly though,” Blaise interjected, squeezing Harry a little tighter, pulling his body even closer. The effects of the bond were worse for the person initiating the separation, and if Harry were to go through the veil, then Blaise could only imagine the pain his little Gryffindor would suffer by leaving him and entering into an entirely different realm, even for a short period of time. The solution was clear to the Slytherin, he would just have to go with Harry. Blaise knew what Harry would sacrifice to find his Godfather, and already he could see that stubborn, determined expression growing on his face.

“Hm,” Bill was thinking of how they could make use of a bond such as this one. “This might actually work in our favor,” he said finally. “Because this realm beyond the veil is most likely really large, once you enter through the portal you will probably lose sight of the gateway and exit. Therefore we would need to secure a way for you to find your way back. If this bond is as strong as you say it is, then we can use this attachment to guide everyone back to this portal. Zabini here could simultaneously be the anchor, and-” 

Blaise looked left and saw the budding excitement in Harry’s eyes.

“No,” the Slytherin’s voice rang out before everyone could become carried away with the idea. “If Harry must go through the portal, then I am going too.” 

Silence reigned throughout the room for many seconds before Harry turned to face his partner more fully. “You heard Bill, Blaise. If this is the best way to rescue Sirius, then we have to try it, right?” 

Blaise captured Harry’s hands, and flicked his eyes towards the other occupants of the room before he decided that he just didn’t care if they watched or not. He leaned forward and placed his forehead against Harry’s, “Harry, think about this, okay? We already know that if I stay here, you will be the one leaving and as a result will take the brunt of the pain once you exceed the limit, not to mention you will be entering into a completely different dimension or what have you. We do not have any idea how the bond will react to that,” he whispered anxiously, trying to make Harry understand. “The pain could become so crippling, that you might not even be able to continue until you found your godfather, and then how would you return?” 

Harry smiled at Blaise’s obvious concern for him, “We’ll figure something out,” he said, placing a hand lightly on Blaise’s cheek, watching him lick his lips. “We can still work on the distancing while we make preparations for the portal, and we can decide how to proceed once we see how our progress is going.” 

Blaise still looked hesitant, and he was about to say so when someone cleared their throat, garnering their attention. Upon facing the room, Blaise noticed Draco grinning at them openly, and Bill once again wore a shocked expression. Professor Snape for his part looked completely exasperated and slightly nauseated.

“Zabini,” the potions master called, “as Potter has stated, we will cross that bridge when we come to it. If there was no bond to speak of, someone would still have to remain here to become the anchor for the group traveling through the portal, so if necessary we will appoint someone else.”

“This bond would be much stronger and more reliable though,” Bill interjected. 

“We don’t know that,” Blaise said, interrupting again. 

“Gentlemen,” Severus interjected with a much sterner voice, “not now. We will continue working with the bond, but there is no need to discuss all of the minor details now. Bill, what else do we need to know before I kick you all of my rooms for the night,” Severus growled, taking a large sip of his scotch, finishing off his glass.

Bill cleared his throat and relaxed back into his seat. He gazed at the Slytherin glaring daggers at him, and he couldn’t help but smile. Bill was a family man at heart, and he would never willingly put any of his family members, including Harry, in any undue danger. He couldn’t help but admire anyone who felt the same about his family, especially Harry. That boy needed taking care of more than anyone else Bill could name. He smiled softly at Blaise – clearly surprising the boy – before pressing on, “We need people on this side of the portal to sustain it and keep it open for as long as possible. That process is very taxing and draining, so the more people we have doing that the better because we cannot predict how long it will take to find and retrieve Sirius. Secondly, we need someone to guard the portal.”

“What do you mean guard it? If we are here, I don’t think anyone will interrupt us,” Draco said. 

“Especially if we use the Chamber of Secrets,” Harry suggest nonchalantly. The chamber seemed like the perfect place for such a venture as it was large enough for any ritual they needed to do, and it could certainly handle the influx of magic the portal would naturally create, probably shielding it from Dumbledore as well as any spies Voldemort might have hanging around outside of the school’s wards in Hogsmeade and the Forbidden Forest.

Bill shook his head, “Sure, we’d be safe from intrusions on this side, but imagine the souls vying to return to this side of the veil. We have no idea what creatures or malevolent spirits haunt that place, so we certainly don’t want them passing through the portal while we wait here like sitting ducks for the others.”

Draco nodded, “Right, well how many people are we talking about here?”

“My brothers and I will help. I am assuming everyone in this room will take part as well?” 

Everyone nodded.

“Good, that makes seven. Well need approximately four more, but the more magic we can channel into the portal to sustain and protect it, the better.” 

“Well, I know at least three others who will be willing to take part,” Draco said, catching Harry’s eye, “As a show of good faith if you will.”

\---:::---

“Harry can I speak to you for a minute,” Bill called as the younger boys prepared to leave for the night. It had become quite late, and each of the boys had class in the morning. Harry and Blaise were already going to be very sore for the next couple of days; they didn’t want to be exhausted on top of that.

“Sure Bill,” Harry grinned, walking over while Blaise and Draco waited by the door, talking and periodically peering over to watch Harry and Bill. Harry knew why Blaise was interested, he thought with a soft smile and blush, but he couldn’t account for Draco’s curiosity at all. 

Bill guided Harry back to the loveseats, “You’ve been busy this term, haven’t you,” Bill laughed. “Rescuing victims from the dead and literally snagging a Slytherin to boot. I’m impressed Harry,” Bill joked. 

Harry laughed and pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose self-consciously. “Yes, well things have certainly been interesting.”

Bill nodded, “I know we haven’t had much time to keep in touch, and I just wanted to make sure everything was okay. This Zabini boy is…you guys are friends? You’re okay spending time with him? I noticed that neither of your other friends were here, and I just wanted to make sure that he wasn’t forcing you to isolate yourself from them because of this bond or anything,” Bill said, getting straight to the point. 

Harry was very surprised, “Oh no! Blaise has been great,” assured him. “He’s been really supportive, and he helps me out so much with all of this. Ron and Hermione and I are…well I’m not sure what we are really,” Harry sighed. Bill was Ron’s brother, and he didn’t know how the elder would feel about their deteriorating relationship, but Harry had always found it easy to talk to Bill, so he hoped nothing had changed. 

“Hermione and I aren’t really friends anymore, and it has nothing to do with Blaise really. I just found that I couldn’t trust her with my secrets anymore, and so,” Harry shrugged. “Ron, on the other hand, is different. I think we can become close again, but I don’t know.” 

Bill nodded, “I know you don’t have time to go into the full story right now, but later if you want to talk about it I figure we’ll be spending a lot of time with each other, and you can also send me an owl anytime, Harry.” 

“Thanks Bill,” Harry said, preparing to leave once again; he was getting tired, and the bond was still buzzing like a hornets’ nest beneath his skin. The bond’s magic was finicky, but Harry was slowly starting to figure it out.

“One last thing Harry,” Bill said. “I think you should consider telling Ron about all of this. He’s finally growing up, and I know how much he loves you and values your friendship, even if he sometimes follows that Granger girl around too much. I think the thought of losing you as his best friend will wake him up, and if you share this with him I don’t think he will betray your trust again. You have no idea how guilty he still feels about fourth year,” Bill confided in Harry. Ron had told his older brother how he’d apologized to Harry during the tournament, but things were never exactly the same, and he really felt terrible about that. 

“Thank you Bill,” Harry said, standing up. “I’ll definitely give it some thought. Ron’s my best friend, so telling me that really means a lot to me.” 

“No problem Harry. Have a good night,” he waved.

\---:::---

“Black.” Snape called. He had finally gotten everyone out of his rooms, and he was sitting up in bed, shirtless, nursing another couple of fingers of scotch. He waited several more minutes for Sirius to respond to his call before he began to become a little anxious. If anything happened to the mutt in the last couple of days they hadn’t spoken to him, Harry was going to have a complete fit. It would tear the boy apart, and Severus couldn’t lie and say that all of his anxiety was on Potter’s behalf.

“Sirius,” he called again. A minute later the glass shimmered, and Severus heaved a sigh and relaxed back into his pillows as Sirius’ face came into view. The man looked a little more haggard and harassed than usual, but he was solid and whole, and Severus figured that was all he could ask of the man, considering where he was. 

“Took your time didn’t you,” Severus couldn’t help commenting. 

Sirius smirked, “Couldn’t wait to see my pretty face?” 

Severus snorted. 

Sirius smiled up at the Potion’s Professor. “I was hoping to see Harry, but I’ve got to say even you are a sight for sore eyes Severus,” Sirius said when Severus didn’t respond to his initial teasing. 

Severus rolled his eyes, “I hope you have conserved your energy Black because we have a lot of work to do today, so I can reunite Tin-Tin with his mutt.”

Sirius’ barking laughter filled the room, and Severus had to hide his smirk. Severus was proud of his biting wit, and he wasn’t surprised that Black found it entertaining, but he was surprised by the small amount of pleasure he, himself, felt to find that his humor was well received by the dog animagus.

“Did you just make a joke Snivellus?”

“Focus Black,” Severus said as he regained control over his features, “I have many questions to ask you. We have consulted Bill Weasley, and we have a tentative plan on how to come rescue you.” 

“Thank Merlin,” Sirius said, closing his eyes. He didn’t want to worry anyone, but it was becoming more and more difficult to remain in this place. He never got hungry or thirsty, but he couldn’t help but feel like a starving man in the desert. His body was missing something, most likely the natural magic that flowed through the air back in the real world. It was becoming more and more difficult to fight the tugging feeling that made him want to relax and let his body fly apart. And, summoning the magical strength the fuel the connection for the mirror was also becoming more difficult each time he used the mirror.

“We need to hurry Snivellus,” Sirius said quietly. 

Severus nodded. “Bill said the preparations might take some time, but as soon as they are ready, I know Harry will not allow us to wait even a day to retrieve you. Can you last a few weeks longer?”

“Time doesn’t pass normally here,” Sirius said, “so I can’t be sure. I don’t even know how long it has been since we last spoke. Sometimes it feels like mere seconds since the last time I spoke with you or Harry, and other times it feels like I’ve waited weeks.”

\---:::---

Blaise gingerly lowered himself onto his sheets in the Slytherin dorm and heaved a heavy sigh. He was exhausted and achy everywhere, and he hoped that Harry would return from his shower soon, so that he could take his turn and finally put an end to this day.

Harry emerged from the shower and looked around, checking to be sure the coast was clear. He quickly made his way to Blaise’s bed and pulled back the curtains. 

“Blaise you can-”

Harry paused with a smile and stood for a while watching Blaise snore lightly as he lay on his stomach on the bed. The Italian hadn’t even removed his outer robes and shoes before crashing into bed. Harry crawled onto the bed beside him and closed the curtains tightly around them. He grabbed his wand and erected the usual silencing and locking charms although he knew that Draco would just tear them down the next morning. 

Placing his wand beneath the pillows alongside Blaise’s, Harry looked towards Blaise and reach out brushing the hair from his face. He looked so relaxed in sleep, and his face appeared much softer than it normally did while awake. Harry ran his fingers down his smooth cheek, and smiled when Blaise shifted closer towards his hand. Harry moved down the bed beside him and began to undress the sleeping Slytherin. He was tugging off his second shoe when he shook Blaise a little too much, waking him. 

“Harry?” Blaise asked, his eyes still closed and his voice thick with sleep. He turned his head when Harry responded only with a grunt and opened his eyes to squint at the Gryffindor. “I can do that,” he mumbled, moving to sit up and undress himself. 

Harry looked up with a smile and reached out and placed a firm hand on Blaise’s back between his shoulder blades, pushing the Slytherin back down onto the bed. “Don’t worry about it; you can shower in the morning. Let me take care of you right now,” Harry whispered, tugging off Blaise’s shoes.

The Slytherin mumbled something unintelligible into the counterpane, and Harry could only smile. He’d never seen Blaise like this before; the Italian always seemed so in control and put together, and it felt good to Harry, knowing that even Blaise fell asleep in his clothes once in a while. 

Harry threw the shoes out of the bed and moved to Blaise’s chest to unclasp his robes. It was a simple matter to slide the robes from his body, but the dress shirt with its numerous tiny buttons were a different matter altogether. Harry made a quick decision to turn the Slytherin over and was surprised by how solid and heavy Blaise was. Sure, he recognized that Blaise was much larger than he was, but Harry didn’t suspect that simply turning him over would be such a difficult task, especially while trying not wake the boy. 

After flipping him over, Harry made short work of his shirt and let his eyes roam over the smooth mocha skin. He blushed brightly when his eyes landed upon Blaise’s belt and pants’ buckle. 

“Right,” he mumbled and began to fumble with Blaise’s belt. 

Blaise awoke to more tugging and jostling and looked down with incredulous eyes to find Harry pulling his trousers off. His eyes opened wider as he became more fully awake and he smirked before shifting to a more comfortable position to watch his oblivious boyfriend. Harry looked like he was working so hard to quickly remove his clothes without waking him, and Blaise thought it was admirable.

“I did not know you were so brazen, Harry,” Blaise teased, lifting his hips to help Harry. He chuckled as Harry squeaked in surprise and ripped his hands away from Blaise’s pants. 

“I-I was just-”

“I know Harry,” Blaise said with a smile, kicking his trousers the rest of the way off and throwing them over the side of his bed to join his shoes. 

“Come up here,” he beckoned, moving up to rest against the pillows and headboard.  
He wound his hands around Harry’s waist as the boy joined him, straddling his hips. Blaise sighed, holding Harry tightly against his chest. Everywhere Harry’s skin met his felt like a soothing balm to his burning skin and sore muscles. 

Harry placed his hands on Blaise’s shoulders and rubbed them up the sides of his neck into his wavy hair. Blaise’s hair wasn’t long, cut fairly short, but it slid through his fingers wonderfully, and Harry could finally feel the bond’s magic settling down. “We should probably go to sleep,” he suggested without moving from Blaise’s lap. 

“Mm, not yet,” Blaise moaned, running his hands underneath Harry’s shirt to remove it. He couldn’t get enough of Harry at that moment. He knew that half of it was the bond, but the rest was all him. He found Harry to be irresistible. The way he blushed profusely as the Slytherin pulled his shirt off and threw it over the side of the bed, the way he breath caught as Blaise ran his hands up and down along his ribs, the way he moaned and shivered as Blaise’s fingers moved to pinch and rub his pebbling nipples. The Slytherins found all of it to be slightly overwhelming. Harry was sensuous by accident, nothing was contrived or put upon; he was one-hundred percent genuine, and that’s what Blaise loved the most about him. 

Blaise groaned and dropped his head down to Harry’s neck, sucking and nibbling the skin there. He delighted in the sweet moans and groans he rung from his bedmate. 

“Mm, Blaise,” Harry moaned his name, bucking his hips involuntarily as the Slytherin’s attentions created waves of lust throughout his body.

“Yes, Harry,” Blaise said, moving his hands to Harry’s ass and pulling him tighter to his body. 

“It’s late,” Harry moaned as his growing erection pulsed and throbbed against Blaise’s.

“I know, Harry,” Blaise groaned and looked up at the Gryffindor. _“Everything about him is just too sweet: his personality, his timidity, his lust, his skin, his mouth,”_ Blaise thought, fixating on Harry’s lips. He pulled him down and ravaged his mouth, his tongue immediately seeking entrance. 

Harry groaned and inhaled deeply into his nose, letting Blaise drive the kiss and send tingles shooting through his body from his head to his curling toes. Harry ripped his head back with a gasp and bright, wide eyes as he felt Blaise’s hot hand enter his boxers and grasp him tightly. 

“I bet this is sweet too,” Blaise wondered aloud.

Harry couldn’t respond except to buck his hips and thrust his cock into Blaise’s hand. It felt a million times better than his own. He groaned and dipped his head, sealing his lips over Blaise’s, nipping at his bottom lip before exploring his mouth with his a wild abandon. His hands left Blaise’s shoulders and joined the Slytherin’s at their waist. He rooted around for Blaise’s erection and marveled at the size of it. Imagining it while feeling it through Blaise’s pants was one thing, but this was something different altogether. 

Blaise pulled back with a hiss and dropped his head back to the headboard. He knew he wasn’t going to last long this time; his body was just too exhausted. He couldn’t focus properly and just allowed the sensation to wash over him. He moved one hand to Harry’s ass, plunging it down his shorts to feel his skin directly and used the other to grasp both of their cocks together, stroking them vigorously. 

“Oh, yes,” Harry moaned, planting both of his hands firmly on Blaise’s shoulders and riding the ecstasy. The touch of Blaise’s cock to his own was enlightening to Harry. He felt so raunchy and sexy as he felt Blaise’s turgid shaft pressed tightly against his own. They slid back and forth against each other as Harry thrust into Blaise’s clenching hand, and it was a heavy overwhelming sensation as the Slytherin’s cock butted against the underside of Harry’s most sensitive organ. 

Blaise opened his eyes and watched Harry; he would never get enough of the wild unrestraint Harry showed during sex. He could only imagine how the boy would look with his cock seated deeply inside of him. Just the thought of it had him groaning as his erection leaked precum all over his hand, adding lubrication. “Louder, Harry,” he commanded, wanting to hear Harry’s lustful moans while he called his name.

“Blaise, it-it’s so,” Harry closed his eyes, and his body clenched as heated sparked shot down his back towards his balls and groins, drawing them up tight. “I’m not going to last,” he panted heavily, bouncing on Blaise’s lap. 

“That’s okay; Come, Harry,” Blaise said, squeezing both of his hands tighter and never taking his eyes off Harry. 

Harry threw his head back and arched, moaning loudly as come shot from both of them, landing on their stomachs. Harry collapsed against Blaise and panted heavily in his lap. Blaise removed both of his hands and rubbed his clean one up and down Harry’s back soothingly. 

Harry felt completely rung out in the best of ways. He fumbled for their wands and cleaned them up, “That was amazing,” he said into the silence. “We should do it again as soon as possible.” 

Blaise chuckled breathlessly and situated them more comfortably in the bed, wiggling until they were able to shimmy beneath the covers. “Most definitely,” he sighed with a contented smile on his face.

\---:::---

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, there we have it. Another chapter for you guys. The plan is finally in motion to retrieve Sirius, and Bill has officially made his grand entrance into the fic, and he’s already unwittingly…or maybe not so unwittingly…haha… messing with Draco’s head, poor thing lolz. Read and review and let me know what you think. You guys inspire my muse, and there can’t be a story with him, so feed him well. :D Until next time! 
> 
> p.s Also, if you were wondering where I came up with the weird name for the portal, I used an online goblin name generator lolz. Anytime I need a strange name I use that. It’s really helpful, so I don’t end up some retarded name like “R.S.B. portal…which I was seriously thinking of calling the portal that. It stands for Rescue Sirius Black portal. Lame, right? Smh. Using the goblin name did help me come up with the brief background story for the portal and the plot point about Gringotts, so that was super helpful and inspiring! Yay goblin name generators lolz! Anyways, that’s really the end of the author’s note because I’m just rambling now. :D R&R!


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry guys! I've been away for the weekend, so I missed last Friday's post. To make it up to you guys, here's 2 chapters, chapter 11 and 12. I hope you guys like them. Read and review please! 
> 
> P.S. Because it’s been so long since I last updated, I wanted to clarify that this chapter starts the day after their meeting with Bill in Snape’s chambers at the end of chapter 10.

**Chapter 11**

When Draco first became aware of anything, he was sliding beneath a firm, toned body along silk sheets. The Slytherin tried to open his eyes, but they seemed to be welded shut and no longer under his control, so he had to rely on his other senses, particularly touch, to map out the contours of his lover’s body. His paramour’s physique was like slick soapy washboard beneath his fingers. The man’s skin was so smooth and the muscles beneath were deliciously hard. He was everything Draco required in a lover, and the boy shivered as the man settled his full weight on top of him. A wordless growl made his ears tingle, and he arched into the body above him, using the other’s shoulders for leverage.

He moaned as his nails sunk into his lover’s heated skin, causing the man’s hips to jerk and settle his cock more firmly into his arse. Draco panted and writhed beneath him as the man began thrusting into him painfully slowly but with punishing force. The blonde slid his arms around his lover’s neck and pulled him closer to his body, tangling his fingers in his love’s tresses. 

“Unnn,” he hissed when the man bit deeply into his neck before laving his tongue seductively over the red love bite. 

“You have the tightest, sexiest arse Draco,” the man’s deep voice purred into his ear, making Draco blush with embarrassment and pleasure at the same time. He canted his hips forward and squeezed his muscles, ringing a surprised hiss from the man above him. 

“You little minx,” he groaned, throwing his head back before sitting up out of Draco’s reach.  
Draco whined as he lost the sweet warmth over his chest. He tried to open his eyes again, so he could level the man with a stern glare, to properly convey his displeasure, but once again it was a fruitless endeavour that soon lost its purpose as he was abruptly turned over onto his stomach. His man grabbed his hips, more than likely leaving bruises for Draco to admire in the mirror later, and began thrusting into him with wild abandon. 

Draco liked it rough and keened wantonly as the man’s cock hit his spot repeatedly. His hand’s clenched their damp sheets and he arched his back and bit his pillow, stifling a moan. 

“No,” the man said, running his fingers through Draco’s hair before gripping the tresses firmly and yanking his head back. “I want to hear you. I want to hear your screams and your moans. I need to hear them, Draco.” 

“Yes,” Draco hissed, rocking his hips backwards, matching that sweet cock’s pace. He would give this man anything he wanted as long as he kept loving him, kept moving inside him. “Anything you want,” he moaned, dropping his head to the pillows beneath him when his hair was released. He didn’t have the strength to hold it up. He shivered and groaned again, clenching his cheeks around the cock inside him, milking it for all it was worth. He wanted it so badly; he’d been craving it for so long. This time, this very moment was all he’d dreamed it would be and more, and he never wanted it to stop. 

“Don’t stop. Please…please don’t stop,” he begged endlessly. 

That deep voice, ragged with exertion, chuckled behind his ear just before a heated tongue ran up his neck circled his ear lobe, “You’re such a pushy bottom, love.”

“Unn,” Draco keened, turning towards the voice, seeking out those sinful lips. “Harder,” he whispered against them, his voice pleading. 

“Anything you want, my love,” the voice mimicked, pulling away from his back and grasping his hips again, thrusting into him wildly once more. 

“Yes,” Draco cried loudly, his voice echoing around the room. That slick cock reaming his arse is what he’d been waiting for all of his life. The firm hand splayed on the center of his back between his shoulder blades, pressing the air from his lungs with each thrust, the nails digging into the skin at his hips, the voice whispering lurid things into the air, the man’s total dominance of his person, this was what Draco wanted, what he had been craving all of his life. With each lover before this, he felt he was getting further and further from what he needed, but finally…finally…

Draco’s orgasm was crashing over him and setting him ablaze before he could even register the tingling in his balls. He hadn’t touched his cock once and yet he was spilling all over the sheets beneath him. His lover released a harsh grunt behind him, and Draco sighed blissfully as the man’s wet cum leaked out of his hole. The Slytherin panted heavily on the pillow, and groaned as his lover collapsed beside him. He could still feel the burn in his arse, and the sensation was exquisite. He’d never before been so satisfied. 

An affectionate hand caressed his cheek, and Draco smiled beatifically at his lover, wriggling closer to him and wrapping an arm and leg around him tightly. 

That seductive laugh reached his ears again, “My little lover,” he said, pulling him closer and settling Draco’s head over his chest. 

Draco listened to his slowing heartbeat as the final post-orgasmic shivers wracked their bodies. He finally found the will to open his eyes and tried to focus on the room around him. It was unrecognizable, but that didn’t matter in the slightest when he felt his lover’s arms pull him tighter to his warm body. His sight was still bleary, but he turned his eyes to his lover’s face which he could just barely make out, for the room was dimly lit and there seemed to be a strange fog slightly obscuring his view. Malfoy could easily see how attractive his lover was, but the features were indistinct. He lifted a hand and ran in down his lover’s face and gripped the long hair lying limply at the man’s the nape. Draco smiled to himself as he looked down at his hand. While most of his features were obscured, there was no mistaking that vivid bright red hair slipping through his fingers. 

Draco sat up with a shock, panting heavily. His hair was askew and his sheets were soaked through from his vivid wet dream. He groaned and collapsed on the bed with his arms spread out on either side of him. It was still dark around the edges of the curtains, so he figured that it was still really early in the morning, but he knew that he’d have no chance of falling back to sleep. Even if he could, he wasn’t sure that he wanted to.

 _I can’t believe I just came in my pants like a third year,_ he thought with a groan, rolling over and banging his head twice on his pillow. Feeling the cooling cum in his pants, he grimaced and reached for his wand, swiftly banishing the mess soggy mess in his pants and on his sheets. 

“I just dreamed of having mind-blowing sex with a Weasley,” Draco moaned pitifully. “And, I was so happy,” he sneered, “so damn smug about it!” What was happening to him, he wondered. Surely, one of his long lost ancestors was cursing him this very moment from beyond the veil.

\---:::---

Draco didn’t see Bill for the rest of the week which was probably a good thing because the dreams hadn’t ceased after that first one. They became more and more explicit and raunchy. He imagined scenes in his bedroom in the manor, in the kitchen in the manor with the elves bustling about without a care…despite the naked heathens besmearing the cutting board. He pictured them in the prefect’s bathroom at Hogwarts, in his bed at Hogwarts, against the charmed window in the Slytherin common room, in his godfather’s office against the desk, in the potions lab. The list went on and on, and it seemed the imaginings weren’t always limited to bedtime. It was becoming more frequent for him to zone out during classes and during lunch, imagining the body beneath Bill’s clothes. Was his chest hairy or smooth? Was his hair as bright everywhere or was that fiery red the sun’s doing? It was insane as the boy had only seen him once that night in Severus’ room, but soon – in mere hours in fact – the man would be returning to Hogwarts.

“Draco!” 

“What,” he snapped, turning to face Harry and Blaise with his patented scowl. 

Blaise arched an eyebrow at Draco’s unwarranted tone, and Harry narrowed his eyes, “I’ve been trying to get your attention,” Harry said calmly, trying not to rile the Slytherin. They’d been getting along so well lately, and Harry didn’t want to go back to fighting with him for Blaise’s sake. The boy was clearly less stressed now that Harry and Draco were getting along better, and Harry wanted to keep it that way. 

Draco sighed; he really wasn’t one to apologize, but he sent the Gryffindor a sheepish smile and motioned for him to continue with whatever he’d wanted to ask or say to him. 

Blaise grinned, knowingly, “Draco, what were you thinking about?” 

Draco froze, his hand hovering just above the extra quills lying between the three of them. He cleared his throat, “That’s not any of your business, Zabini,” Draco sneered snootily, lifting his nose into the air. “Potter, what did you want to ask me?”

“Do you want to join us for a bit of quiddich today? I’m going flying with Ron this afternoon, and as you know Blaise here has to tag along-”

“You make me sound like unwanted baggage,” Blaise grunted, nudging Harry with his shoulder. 

Harry opened his mouth to object, but he was interrupted by Draco who was rolling his eyes, “Don’t let him fool you, Potter; he loves chasing your arse around the castle.”

Harry’s eyes bulged, and he turned bright pink as Blaise laughed and taunted his friend, “At least I have arse to chase. Things have been a little dry on your end have they not, Malfoy?”

“Hey!” Harry interjected with a smile. He liked seeing the two of them this playful, but he wasn’t sure how he felt about them talking about his arse so much. 

Blaise turned to him with a gentle smile when he noticed how uncomfortable Harry was becoming by listening to their banter, “I am sorry Harry,” he whispered into his ear, just barely refraining from nipping at it. 

Draco rolled his eyes again, “So, I take it you guys are together officially now?” Draco arched an eyebrow as Harry blushed again; the boy just couldn’t seem to resist the urge, Draco realized. He couldn’t deny that the rosy color suited Potter, and he could see why Blaise thought it was adorable and completely lost his marbles and fell for Potter in a few short weeks. 

Harry was resilient and powerful for his age, a good match, magically, to any pure-blood, and no matter what Potter wanted to think, blood-status mattered. Pure-bloods were generally more powerful as long the inbreeding was kept under control. Regulus and Sirius Black were prime examples of that; their parents were second cousins and both Regulus and Sirius were exceptional wizards. 

If the inbreeding became too frequent in any given line, then the results were unpredictable, giving rise to near squibs like Crabbe and Goyle. The Parkinson line was very close to that point which is why they were so desperate for Pansy to marry and bond with Draco, to introduce new, pure – and therefore stronger – blood into the family. Their particular dilemma though, Draco mused, was mostly due to the inbreeding rather than weak magical blood though. Introducing any new magic and blood into the line, even muggle-born, would revitalize the Parkinson line at least a little. 

“Yes,” Blaise said, grinning, interrupting Draco’s wandering thoughts. Draco looked closely at both boys, and he wasn’t surprised to see that both of them looked exceptionally happy, Harry still blushing but smiling softly and Blaise once again donning that very smug, proud grin. 

“Well, it’s about time,” Draco said and stretched his arms above his head. “Now, for the tenth time,” Draco threw a glare at his friend, “what is it you wanted to ask me, Potter?”

Harry looked puzzled for a minute like he couldn’t remember.

“It was about Quiddich, Harry,” Blaise prompted. 

Harry nodded, “Right, I wanted to know if you wanted to go flying with us today. We could have a little game of two on two snitch hunting. Blaise and I haven’t tested the bond today, but even if the distance has increased recently I doubt it it’ll be enough to cover the length of the pitch, so we’ll have to be on the same team so-”

“You want me to partner with Weasley!”

Harry hesitated and looked to Blaise. 

The Slytherin sighed, “You do not have to come if you do not want to,” Blaise said, “but it will do us a favor, and you seemed to have no problem with Weasley’s older brother, so Harry was hoping-”

“That was different!” Malfoy interjected loudly. 

Blaise smirked, “Different how?” 

Draco didn’t respond, simply turning away and crossing his arms. He looked down when he felt a warm hand on his forearm. 

“Please,” Harry pleaded. “It won’t be for long, just one or two games if the first one goes well, and then you can leave. I just want this to go well for Ron and I because things have been strained between us, and he’s my best mate.”

Draco was beyond surprised; he never seen Potter’s face like that. If he were a Slytherin, Malfoy would have been convinced that the boy was just trying to manipulate him into going with them, but because he knew that Harry hardly had a manipulative bone in his body, he could only assume that the clear, bright puppy-dog eyes aimed at him were genuine. Which was completely baffling when he compared this Harry to the determined, fierce one he’d crossed wands with in the Room of Requirement only a week ago.

 _Damn,_ he thought. _Since when was Potter cute? Luckily, he’s not my type,_ he mused, imagining bright red hair, _otherwise I really would be lost. Poor Blaise._ He glanced at Potter a second time and groaned and turned to his best friend and sneered at the laughter behind his eyes. Blaise clearly knew what he was being subjected to, and he had no sympathy at all, _Bastard_ ,” he grumbled. 

“Fine, but only one, and you owe me something equally painful for this torture you’re about to subject me to,” Draco whined, tugging his arm way and walking away from the grinning couple, leaving them to put away their research books. 

“Meet us on the pitch in two hours!” Harry called behind him. He waved a silent hand over his head and stomped off towards the Slytherin common room.

“Whatever shall we do with the rest of our time,” Blaise asked, nuzzling into Harry’s neck, inhaling his sweet scent and pressing light dry kisses to his neck. 

Harry smiled and relaxed his posture, allowing his head to loll around on his shoulders. “Hmm,” he moaned, “Well, we’re in the library, so we could finish the homework we started. We both need to begin medita-” his voice hitched as Blaise ran his hand across his chest and pinched one of his nipples through the thin fabric of his time-worn cotton shirt.

“I am too worked up to meditate, Harry,” Blaise growled, biting Harry’s earlobe before lapping at the stinging flesh. “However, if you help me relax first,” Blaise’s voice trailed off as he grabbed his wand and erected silent privacy wards. 

Harry blushed and moaned quietly as Blaise slid across the seat attacked his neck with fervor, sucking and nipping at his pale, sensitive skin. “Blaise,” Harry sighed, throwing his head back and carding his fingers through the Slytherin’s soft hair. “We really should get to work. We-we’ve neglected our-” he groaned and bit his lip as more color flooded his face and Blaise worked his hand through this robes. Harry canted his hips forward involuntarily when Blaise rubbed his palm roughly over his jean clad erection. 

The Gryffindor gave up all pretenses of doing any work at the moment as turned sideways and leaned into Blaise’s body, wrapping his arms securely around the boy’s neck, and grinding up into his hand. 

“Every day, every second, you make want to do these things to you Harry,” Blaise groaned, pulling back a little to lick his lips and watch Harry come apart beneath his roaming fingers. 

Harry shut his eyes tightly, giving way to the sizzling sensations.

“I wanted you so badly before, Harry,” Blaise continued, doubling his efforts and periodically squeezing Harry’s cock, making the boy groan wantonly. “I wanted to hold you and caress you like this. Before I knew it, you were all I could think about, your shy smiles, your pouty expressions, your bold exclamations. You are a study in contradictions my little Gryffindor, and I have been fascinated by you from the start.” 

Harry clutched him tighter and whined as he thrust his hips harder. Blaise wrapped his free arm around Harry’s waist and hoisted him easily into his lap. “This is my favorite position,” his smooth tenor washed over Harry’s ears, further submerging him under crashing waves of lust and desire. 

“I love having you spread out above me, begging so sweetly with those illicit, silent eyes.”

“Blaise,” Harry moaned again. Blaise was driving him crazy, the things he was saying. His voice was positively sinful, and the sensation from the hard bulge sitting just beneath his arse was tantalizing. Harry ground down onto it and watched his lover closely. 

Blaise’s breath hitched and his eyes threatened to roll back into his skull, every single sensation Harry elicited was more powerful than any the Slytherin had experienced with anyone else. His breath hissed through his teeth as he exhaled, and he pulled Harry down for a scorching kiss, sitting back fully into his seat, gripping Harry’s hips with both hands to guide the boy’s rocking trusts. 

“You always seem so innocent and sweet to me, so delicate,” Blaise gasped out in a ragged voice, “but I know better. There is hidden strength in you that is breathtaking when you let it out. Not that Gryffindor stubbornness, although that has its charm too,” Zabini smirked. “No, I am referring to the way you handled Dumbledore,” he chuckled but lost his mirthful expression as Harry dipped his head licked tentatively at his neck. 

The Slytherin groaned and urged Harry on, holding his head to his neck, “You cannot imagine how surprised and turned on I was that day, hiding beneath your invisibility cloak, watching you spar with the Headmaster.” 

Harry didn’t believe he was at all that spectacular, and it was mostly because Blaise was there that he actually felt the confidence to stand his ground rather than simply remaining silent and later stewing in his own indignation at being handled, once again, by the Headmaster. He increased his thrusts and wished fervently that there was no fabric separating him from Blaise. He needed more, so much more, but he didn’t have time to ask or beg for it as his orgasm was snatched from his groin with unaccountable force. 

Blaise watched through his own orgasm as Harry arched backwards, grinding their pelvises together. “So beautiful, Harry,” he whispered, running his hands over and through the Gryffindor’s sweaty hair. He pushed it from his face and pulled him into a sweet kiss. “So bloody beautiful,” he repeated. 

Harry blushed and smiled, kissing Blaise quickly on the lips before collapsing into his chest. “That was so hot,” he said, running his hands beneath Blaise’s robes and gripping the back of his satin shirt. “I can’t believe we did that in the library,” he said with wonder. 

Blaise chuckled, _so cute_ , he thought. “Trust me, my Harry; that was probably the mildest thing this library has witnessed in some years yet.” 

Harry sat up with a scandalized, expression. “You’re kidding.” 

Blaise grinned wickedly, “No, I do not believe I am. Just how many years has Draco been a student here?”

Harry released a barking laugh, much like his godfather’s. Sobering, he accio’d his wand and cleaned them both of drying cum and sweat. He was debating moving back into his own seat when Blaise turned him around and settled his back against the Slytherins warm, broad chest. Harry sighed contentedly as the Slytherin’s strong arms wrapped securely around his waist and the ridgeback wooden chair transfigured into a large comfortable reclining settee that just barely fit in the space between the wall and the table. 

“I meditate best like this,” Blaise assured him. Not that Harry was complaining in the slightest. 

Harry yawned and snuggled into Blaise’s warm embrace. He wanted to meditate and begin figuring out what his animagus form might be, but as his eyelids drooped he knew he would be asleep in no time at all. “I think this is too relaxed,” he mumbled, a little disgruntled.

He felt Blaise’s rumbling laugh, but wouldn’t remember much at all after that when he later awoke.

\---:::---

“There he is,” Harry said, pointing out the redhead waiting for them near the goal posts on the far side of the pitch.

Draco merely grunted and squinted into the sunlight. Autumn was upon them, and it was a little chilly outside but not too windy, adequate conditions for flying. 

“I see him,” Blaise responded, hefting his broom up higher, squaring his shoulders and following Harry closely. He still remembered the last time they’d had a run-in with the Gryffindors and was prepared for any sort of reaction from the volatile Gryffindor. 

“Hey, Ron,” Harry called. 

Ron narrowed his eyes, “What’d you bring ‘im for Harry?” Ron gestured to Draco with a scowl. “I only agreed to one Slytherin not two,” he grumbled. 

Harry crossed his arms, “You didn’t have to agree to anything, Ron. They’re not my pets; I don’t just take them wherever I want. They decided to come, and I couldn’t just tell them no. We don’t own the pitch. Besides, I thought it would be fun to play teams, two-on-two.”

“But I don’t want to play with Slytherins,” Ron whined. 

Harry groaned, “I thought you were getting past that, Ron.”

Draco grinned sardonically, “That’s fine with me. I can go.” 

“Draco, wait,” Harry said, grabbing his arm. “Just let me talk to him for a while. You two can go warm up,” he suggested, turning to Blaise for his help. Obviously, Draco was ready to bolt and return to his dungeons. Most likely, he’d rather be squishing slugs for Snape that flying with a Weasley. 

“Come on, Draco, let us allow them to talk in private,” Blaise said. He turned to Harry with a sly smile, bending to whisper in his ear, “Do not take too long, Harry. I am anxious to see you riding that broom up close.”

Harry blushed and pushed the laughing boy away from him towards his huffing friend. Turning back to Ron, he noted that his frown had deepened with burgeoning anger. Harry had no idea where it was coming from because just a few days ago Ron seemed more tolerant of the time Harry spent with Blaise and consequently, Draco. He couldn’t imagine where this renewed anger was coming from. 

“Are you going over to the dark side,” Ron blurted. “Hermione, Ginny and I have been talking and-”  
Harry sighed. _And, there’s my answer_. Harry listened to Ron speak for a couple of minutes longer, but he hardly paid the boy any attention. This is precisely what he was talking about when he said that the wizarding world needed to change, but he knew that he couldn’t get into to that with Ron because the boy just wouldn’t understand…at least not right now. The boy had a stubborn streak a mile long, and Harry knew that while Ron might have a renewed sense of loyalty to him it certainly did not extend to Harry’s new Slytherin friends. He decided to stop Ron before he said something they both would regret. “I don’t fully understand what you mean by the dark side Ron, but because I know you, I can honestly say that I am not becoming a death eater, and I still want to destroy Voldemort as much as I did at the end of fifth year.” 

Ron pondered his statement for a second, appearing to dissect and analyze it as he would a particularly clever chess move, but he still just couldn’t understand. “I don’t see why you want to hang with Slytherins though. They aren’t going to help you with that. Hell, they might even trap you. You need me and Mione.” 

Harry withheld a pained groan, “That’s just it Ron. I don’t.” 

Ron seemed to wilt before Harry’s eyes, and Harry couldn’t help but feel a certain amount of guilt for that, but he was firm in his decision. Ron and Hermione didn’t know and wouldn’t understand half of the things transpiring in Harry’s life this year. They were growing apart. It wasn’t uncommon for adolescents their age. They each were growing up and becoming men and women, and things just weren’t the same as when they were children playing at being heroes.

“I have other people willing to help me now, which include Blaise and Draco, whether you believe that or not that’s your decision. Facing Voldemort is going to be the most difficult thing I’ll ever do in my entire life, and I will use any and every resource available to me. I don’t have time to pick and choose my allies based on house affiliation anymore. When are you going to realize that this war, the world, is larger than that?” Harry asked, completely exasperated. He felt like he was trying to move a brick wall. Apparently, he’d taken one step forward with Ron only to take two more backwards. _I’ll thank Hermione and Ginny for that_.

Harry ran a frustrated hand through his hair and pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose, “I’ll have this conversation with you one more time Ron, but after that I’m done. This is becoming too bothersome. I had many things I wanted to tell you today, but now I don’t think you can handle any of them because you still think and behave like a first year. I want and need mature people around me, unprejudiced people,” Harry stressed.

“Then why are you hanging around with that lot,” Ron retorted angrily. “They’ve tormented-”

“You’re just as bad as they are,” Harry yelled, his frustration and anger finally getting the best of him and drawing the attention of the Slytherins loitering just to the right of them. 

Ron looked as if he’d swallowed a lemon and couldn’t frame any words in response, “You judge them and hate them, and you don’t even know them. Yes, they were arses to us when we were younger, but they were kids, mouthing off and repeating things they knew nothing about, and honestly, we weren’t any better.” 

Ron shook his head. 

“It’s true,” Harry said, imploring the boy to understand. “When I was eleven, I came into the castle believing that the whole of Slytherin was evil and vile because of one… _one_ ,” Harry stressed, “conversation I’d had with Hagrid in Diagon Alley. I knew nothing about the house system, and already I was convinced that they were the scum of society.”

Deciding to take Bill’s advice about honesty, Harry revealed one of his older, more closely guarded secrets in the hopes that it would help his case, “I was almost sorted into Slytherin, you know,” Harry said, shocking his friend and undoubtedly the two eavesdropping Slytherins. “Can you imagine how different my life might have been if I had entered the castle objectively. That’s not to say it would be better,” Harry rushed to say, noticing Ron’s strangled expression, “but we don’t know where life can lead us if we’re not open to it, Ron.”

At Ron’s maintained silence, Harry returned the subject to him, “The first thing you said to me about Slytherin was how evil they were, and yet you didn’t even know one. How could you have known something like that?” 

“My brothers-” 

“Were just like you and me and Blaise and Draco,” Harry interrupted, “judging people based on the opinions of others rather than taking a look for ourselves. I don’t want to live like that anymore, Ron, and I won’t. I can’t afford to,” he whispered, taking a step back from his friend. 

He looked at Ron longingly, “Aren’t you tired of following others blindly? Don’t you want to make your own judgments for once, Ron?” 

The redhead didn’t really know what to say. Harry did have a point, but he was just so unsure. 

“Is everything alright,” Blaise’s smooth voice cut in as his hand slid possessively along the small of Harry’s back. 

Harry took one more glance at his friend and looked at him questioningly. 

Ron smiled sheepishly and scratched the back of his head. He took two tentative steps forward and thrust his hand out jerkily, moving before he could change his mind, “Hello, my name is Ron Weasley, pleasure to meet you,” he mumbled, looking Blaise straight in the eye, even as a bright blush flushed his face. 

Blaise arched and eyebrow and flicked his eyes to Harry who was beaming brightly, “Blaise Zabini, Harry’s boyfriend,” he introduced himself with a wicked smile. 

Harry sighed and dropped his head, “Was that really necessary,” he mumbled to Blaise as Ron shook the Slytherin’s hand robotically and turned puce. 

“Absolutely,” Blaise said, shooting him a sexy grin. “Better to rip the bandage off quickly as they say.”

“What utter rot,” Harry crossed his arms and pouted, “You’re lucky you’re so good-looking.”

Ron cleared his throat and clenched his broom, “Is-is this what you wanted to tell me, Harry?”

“Yes…among other things.” 

Ron blanched, “Among other things? There’s more? I don’t think I can stand more.”

Harry nodded, “After the match, yeah?”

\---:::---

“Don’t be so torn up about it,” Blaise teased, nudging Draco in the shoulder.

The blonde snorted, “I could care less. I had a _significant_ handicap,” he drawled, sneering at the redhead walking behind them with Harry. 

Blaise snickered and nodded. It was true that Ron was definitely not meant to be a seeker; he was in Draco’s way more times than not, but the redhead was adequate at defense, often disrupting Harry or Blaise’s flight patterns when they were nearing the snitch. The Malfoy and Weasley team had lost two games to one, but things might have gone differently if Draco wasn’t distracted. Blaise wasn’t sure why, but Draco seemed more concerned with Weasley than the game warranted. 

Behind them, Harry and Ron drifted further back until Harry began to feel uncomfortable at which time Blaise paused and waited for them, still maintaining a courteous distance so that Harry could speak to his friend somewhat privately. 

Harry smiled and turned to his friend, “That wasn’t so bad was it?”

“Humph, if you’d lost two games to one, you might not say that. That was painful, Harry,” Ron laughed. 

Harry joined him, “Well, we all knew you weren’t meant for the seeker position, but now we know why.” 

Ron smiled sheepishly, “Yeah. So…” Ron began, “you and Zabini? How did that happen? Better yet when did that happen?” At that moment, things seemed to connect for the redhead, “Is that why he went bloody crazy on Mione’ after potions, because you’re together?”

Harry blushed, recalling that moment. Blaise had looked so fierce and indomitable and sexy. Harry cleared his throat, “Um, actually at the time we weren’t dating, but-”

“But what? He seemed awfully attached,” Ron commented. 

Harry laughed, “You could definitely say that.”

“What?” 

Harry took a deep breath, “It began when we were working on our charms project. I never noticed Blaise before then, but I was immediately attracted to him: his intelligence, his appearance, his charm, and his faith in my own abilities. We became friends when I felt like I had none. He hardly knew me, but he believed in me when I felt like you and Hermione did not,” Harry said honestly. 

Ron clenched his teeth and turned away with a fiery blush. From anger or embarrassment, Harry couldn’t tell, so he just forged ahead with his story. 

“In the beginning, we really were just working together on our charms project despite my attraction, but then when we were doing our first practical experiments with the spell we had a little magical mishap,” Harry said, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose and rubbing the back of his neck, discomfited. 

At this point, they had reached the changing rooms and were standing just outside of them. Draco already knew much of the this tale, so he was hardly attentive, but he Blaise was giving Harry his full attention, interested in how much the Gryffindor was willing to tell his friend.

“A mishap,” Ron questioned hesitatingly, looking from Harry to Zabini. 

The Slytherin nodded but allowed Harry to continue the retelling as he saw fit. 

“Yes,” Harry said, “the short of it is that Blaise and I are tied together magically. We can only part for a short distance without experiencing debilitating pain.” 

Ron’s eyes grew large, and he looked from Slytherin to Gryffindor repeatedly, presumably trying to see the magical rope that tethered the two together. “How?” he gasped. 

Harry told Ron as much as they knew about the bond. The boy was taking it surprisingly well, “‘Mione is going to flip when she hears this. She’ll be in the library for days on end.” 

Harry frowned, “No, Ron, you can’t tell her or anyone else for that matter. This could be dangerous if the wrong people find out, and that includes all of the professors and anyone who doesn’t already know, especially Hermione and Professor Dumbledore.”

Ron was completely baffled, mostly because Harry didn’t want to tell Professor Dumbledore, but right now he was skating on thin ice with Harry, and he didn’t want to betray Harry’s trust a second time. Harry, he knew, must have his reasons, and it pained him to know that he wasn’t trusted with those anymore, but perhaps in due time…

“Anyway,” Harry said, “I need your help now. You’re the only one in Gryffindor Tower who knows about us, and we have to sleep together because of this, and it’s difficult to sneak in and out the dorms. I have the cloak, and Draco has been really helpful in the Slytherin dorms, but our dorm is more of a hassle which is why I’ve been spending so much time in Blaise’s.

Ron blushed at the thought of the two of them sharing a bed, but nodded his head numbly to Harry’s request. “Sure Harry, but no more secrets okay?” 

Harry frowned a little, but was saved from disappointing his friend when Blaise spoke up on his behalf. 

“There are still some things that you are not yet privy to,” Blaise said, “but that is because they involve more than just Harry and myself, and until we secure their permission to tell their secrets then we can’t tell you everything.” 

Ron grimaced but held his peace. Exploding now, as he was wont to do, wouldn’t help his case at all. He was trying really hard to turn over a new leaf where Harry was concerned lest the boy leave him behind with the girls, and no matter what Ron had done wrong, he really didn’t believe he deserved such a terrible punishment. 

“Right,” he said, “well why don’t we get cleaned up and scrounge up some food. I’m starving.” 

Draco snorted, “I won’t be _scrounging_ up anything,” he said haughtily.

\---:::---

Hours later Harry, Blaise, and Draco found themselves back in the dungeons with Snape and Bill working on the potions necessary for Sirius’ retrieval from the veil. The Gryffindor was trying his damndest to focus on the task at hand, but Blaise was literally driving him to distraction.

“Stop that,” Harry said, drawing Draco and Blaise’s attention. 

“Stop what, Harry,” Blaise asked, removing a tooth pick from his mouth; the Slytherin had been nibbling on it since their time in the kitchens hours ago. Harry hadn’t commented on it before, but now he was staring directly at Blaise’s mouth, eyeing the stick warily and somewhat enviously.

Harry was blushing a light pink, “You’ve been chewing on that for hours now. Stop it. It’s distracting,” he mumbled, turning back to the ingredients he was slicing. 

Zabini smirked mischievously, “I cannot,” he whispered, sidling up to Harry and leaning over into his ear. He ignored Draco’s groan of annoyance and continued teasing his little lover. “I have an oral fixation, Harry,” he admitted, looking down at the raven haired boy with blatant lust. “I have to satisfy it somehow.”

Harry gulped and turned to look fully at the Slytherin beside him, his cheeks coloring even more and heat pooled in his groin, grabbing the attention of cock. “You-”

“What are you two chaps whispering about,” Draco interrupted with a knowing smirk simply to tease the Gryffindor.

Harry jumped and coughed conspicuously as Blaise’s smirk merely grew larger as he took a small step away from the frazzled Gryffindor. 

“Don’t start in on me,” Harry said with a scowl as the rosy color began to slowly leave his cheeks. “Don’t think I haven’t noticed you’ve been watching Bill this entire time.”

Draco’s face shuttered as he schooled his expression, hoping to waylay the embarrassed flush that would surely give him away. 

Blaise arched and eyebrow and smirked devilishly at his best friend, “I did not realize you were quite so attentive, Harry,” he began, building up to his point. “I am very impressed, but did you happen to also notice his sudden, uncharacteristic interest in your best friend this morning?” 

Harry cocked his head and gave it some thought, “No, I hadn’t noticed, but I was too excited to be back on a broom,” Harry said obliviously. 

Draco snickered and opened his mouth to tease Potter further, eager to move the attention onto the Gryffindor and away from himself. 

“What is so funny,” Blaise grinned, “You two did lose two to one today. I thought for sure you had a thing for Ronald Weasley this morning, and I was very worried about you. Now, I realize that it must be redheads you have a thing for since you are clearly so taken with both brothers. Too bad those twins decided to leave Hogwarts early,” he teased, “you could have taken advantage of a two-for-one deal a long time ago.” 

Harry laughed uproariously as Draco turned scarlet, brighter than he had ever been before. 

“That’s not true,” he raged.

“What’s not true,” a smooth voice asked, stepping up behind the blonde. Draco stiffened, and his blush became even hotter than before. “I could use a break and a good laugh,” Bill smiled, looking over Draco’s shoulder at the snickering Gryffindor and grinning Italian. 

“Nothing,” Draco huffed, pushing away from the table and knocking into Bill in his haste to extract himself from this very humiliating situation. 

“Whoa wotcher Malfoy,” Bill admonished, steading the boy and moving closer to him in the process. 

Draco’s breath caught in his throat, and his chest tightened along with his pants as the redhead looked down at him with a teasing smile, his warm hands wrapped around his arms tightly. They seemed to scorch him through his shirt sleeves like they always did in his dreams. He didn’t know how to respond; his brain and mouth had lost the connection necessary to form words, so he merely jerked and extracted himself from the man’s embrace and moved to the other side of the workbench with a silent glare for all three of the people before him. 

“Weasley!” Snape barked, “Stop playing with the children and come do your part. This is a delicate potion as you yourself pointed out at the onset. Cease this dithering about.” 

Bill looked over his shoulder and gave the potions master a snarky salute before turning back the boys and leveling Draco with a particularly charming grin, “Duty calls. Don’t have too much fun without me,” he said suggestively, staring at Malfoy. Teasing him was beginning to become really fun. Too bad the blonde was so very young; Bill had always had a thing for blondes. Taking a final look at the boy, he paused as he noticed an adorable light blush staining his cheeks. _Well maybe not too young_ , he mused thoughtfully. The twins weren’t the only ones with a penchant for breaking the rules.

\---:::---


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As promised, here's chapter 12! Read and review!

**Chapter 12**

By Monday of the next week, things had settled fairly well for Harry. With Ron’s help, he was able to spend much more time in Gryffindor Tower. And, as he spent a little time that evening catching up in the common room, while Blaise studied or slept in his bed, Harry realized that as much as he was beginning to like Draco and Professor Snape’s company he’d missed the raucous antics of his fellow Gryffindors. Seamus and Dean were particularly refreshing to watch as the Irish boy once again managed to blow his eyebrows off of his face. Luckily, he’d mastered the hair-growth potion by his third year, but the resulting beard and shaggy mane that accompanied his newly re-grown eyebrows was just as entertaining as the initial explosion.

Ron sniggered at the shaggy animal now prancing around their common room on all fours, and Harry laughed alongside him. 

“Missed us didn’t you,” Ron said, bumping Harry’s shoulder. 

Harry nodded cautiously; he didn’t want to give Ron the wrong idea. Yes, these were his friends, and he was glad to be able to spend more time with them, but that didn’t negate all of the things he’d said to the redhead on Saturday, and it didn’t change that fact that his boyfriend was waiting for him just upstairs…in his bed. Harry blushed with just the thought. 

Ron hummed as he watched Harry’s face and changing emotions, “He’s never far from your mind is he,” he asked, noting his best friend’s tinted cheeks. “Is he, you know, down here right now,” Ron whispered, looking around suspiciously. 

Harry shook his head, “No, he’s in our dorm.” He watched as a question clearly crossed Ron’s face. “We can separate a farther now,” Harry answered, beating him to the punch and lifting his feet up as furry kitten, chased by a grinning first-year boy followed by a crying young girl raced by their couch. 

“We’re not sure how far we can separate as we really don’t want to test it much more than this, but for right now I feel sort of okay.”

Ron nodded; he remembered Harry’s description of the pain they often felt upon separation, and he didn’t blame them at all. He wouldn’t test it either if it were up to him. He tuned back in as Harry continued speaking. 

“As it is, it feels strange to be even this far from him after all of this time, and it’s only been an hour, but Snape agrees that we need to exercise the bond like a muscle, so we’re doing the best we can. Soon, we’ll be testing it officially with Snape, so we’ll see how that goes.” Harry knew that much of their progress was due to their increased intimacy, and he was grateful for the positive effects it was having, but he was a little embarrassed that Snape would know, or at the very least, assume that they were doing a lot more than they were given the results. The Gryffindor knew that while they were certainly very earnest in their _playing_ – as Harry liked to refer to it – it was the quantity rather than the intensity that had yielded such progress. Blaise wasted no opportunity to push Harry up against a wall or drape him over a table or pull the boy into a deserted classroom, corridor, alcove, or bathroom, and that’s not even including what they got up to every night and every morning behind the privacy of their bed curtains. 

Simply thinking about it had Harry’s spine tingling and the various love bites scattered across his body heating up with the sensation of phantom lips and fingers caressing them. 

“-Arry, Harry, Harry!” Ron shouted regaining Harry’s attention as well as many of their housemates’. 

“Oh, sorry Ron,” Harry apologized sheepishly, swallowing and shifting in his pants, thanking his horrid relatives, not for the first time in the last few weeks, for foisting his overweight cousin’s hand-me-downs onto him. 

“That’s alright,” Ron waved away his apology, “I just wanted to let you know that Hermione and Ginny have just come in, and if you’d like to avoid them then that window of opportunity is closing fast.” 

Harry turned to look towards the portrait entrance and groaned, noticing the exact moment when both girls spotted him. He never quite felt like more of a sitting duck than he did at that moment.

“Harry Potter don’t you dare get up,” Hermione said and stomped through the room, glaring at the younger children in their way. 

Ginny sidled up and squished between Ron and Harry, making both of the boys groan. Harry looked really put upon, literally as the girl was nearly sitting in his lap, and Ron was rolling his eyes with an exasperated but tolerant older brother expression. 

“Harry is it true,” Ginny questioned immediately.

 _And so it begins_ , Harry thought, shifting as much as possible to his right and away from the girl. There wasn’t much room, so Harry really had nowhere to go, and he could feel the circulation in his left leg slowing. _Why is she so heavy_ , he wondered. This situation put all of those times he – without warning – sat on Blaise in sharp perspective for Harry, but the Slytherin never complained. In fact, he always pulled Harry closer and caged him in with his arms, so that he couldn’t move an inch. _Perhaps it’s the way she’s sitting. She must be pinching a vein or artery or something_ , he figured because he knew that even though he was still a little underweight he was nonetheless several stone heavier than Ginny.

“Harry,” she yelled when he didn’t answer her question, lost in his mind as he was. 

_No, I’m convinced now. This hurts much more because she’s a right harridan, loud and obnoxious to the tenth degree. She used to be such a sweet, shy little girl. What on Earth happened?_ Harry shook himself, “Is what true, Ginny?” 

“That you’ve been lying about how much time you spend working on that charms project of yours, and the reason I hardly ever see you anymore is because you would rather spend time with Slytherins than with us,” she pouted, leaning into his personal space and breathing down his neck. 

Harry leaned away from her as much as possible. He couldn’t fathom what she wanted by invading his personal space in such a manner, but he didn’t like it. He eyed both of his friends in turn, trying to decide who had told Ginny about their last conversation in the common room. He had an idea, but Hermione’s smug expression left no doubt in the least. At this point, she was merely trying to torture him rather than sort things out. 

He jolted when Ginny placed a hand on his forehead, supposedly measuring his temperature, but it was obvious she had ulterior motives as her hand began to slide slowly down his face, neck and down the front of his shirt. Harry pushed her away with disgust, wondering just when she became so forward. Even Ron was wearing a gob smacked expression, gaping like a fish. 

“Harry, just what has come over you?”

“Me,” Harry retorted incredulously. “What about you? Next thing you know you’ll be trying to stuff your hand down my pants.” 

Ginny bit her lip and flicked her eyes over to Hermione who merely nodded and somehow steeled the girl’s resolve. “Harry look,” she said, sidling up to him again. “You’re hanging out with the Slytherins all of the time and ignoring me, and I…we… want it to stop.” 

“Don’t bring me into this,” Ron urged, standing up from the couch and thankfully giving them more room, so Harry could push the girl completely off of him. “Harry and I have made our peace, and I’ll not have you wrecking it,” Ron fumed, moving to sit beside Dean and Neville one table over. 

Ginny rolled her eyes, “Forget him. Harry you need to…don’t turn away from me when I’m talking to you!”

Without a sound or a backward glance, Harry stood up and moved away from the two girls by the couch and moved to the hearth where everyone in the room could see him. With a little magical help and the sonorous charm, everyone would hear him. 

“Look,” he said after garnering the entire room’s attention, “and listen closely because I am only going to say this once. I don’t know who or what has given any of you,” he leveled the entire room with a stern expression, especially Hermione and Ginny, “the impression that you can control or have any say in my life and the decisions that I make for myself. The next person who feels the urge to comment or critique my life better stuff it right now because I don’t want to hear it, and I will not tolerate it. I will hex you six ways from Sunday I promise,” he said with deathly calm. 

“No matter what many of you think – fellow housemates or not – you don’t know me, so my affairs shouldn’t be of any concern to you. For those of you who do know me, but haven’t done anything to offend me,” Harry looked to Seamus, Dean, and Neville particularly, “then you have my gratitude from the bottom of my heart, and I would appreciate it if you continued and heeded my warning because I have had enough of the nagging, the whispering behind my back, and the dirty looks.” He sighed and rubbed his face; he was beginning to remember why he’d begun spending so much time away from the tower in the first place. 

“Harry-” Ginny began only to be cut off without the slightest notice. Harry was done listening to anything she had to say.

“If you have friendly advice from a genuine helping hand, then by all means come and speak to me _privately_. If you need my help, if it’s in my power to do so and _I_ have the inclination to do so, then I will help you. However, do not assume that you are entitled to anything from me because despite what the papers say and the rumors speculate I am my own person, and I do what I like when I like.”

“What about You-Know-Who!” Ginny shrieked, completely mortified because the entire room knew that, among others, Harry was speaking directly to her. 

Harry cocked an eyebrow and stood his ground, “What about him?” 

There was a collective gasp around the room, and Hermione smiled smugly as if that comment proved some point she had been trying to make for years now, “See Harry, you just can’t keep…”

Harry interrupted her as smoothly as if he didn’t hear her, addressing only Ginny and the rest of the students, “Seamus, you’re in my year are you not?” 

“Um, sure Harry, you know that. We’ve only been sleeping in the same dorm for six years now,” he responded, clearly confused. 

Harry nodded, “And you, Ron, Dean, Neville, hell, Thompson you’re a year older than me.” It was obvious that no one understood his point, but that was alright. He was more than prepared to spell it out for them. “Why don’t you all pick up your own wand and lend a helping hand? I know as many or fewer spells than most of you do, being muggle-raised for eleven years. I don’t know anything you don’t.” 

The silence in the room was stifling. Even Hermione was shocked into silence. Her only saving grace was that for several years she’d been right beside Harry in the thick of most of his tangles.

“Many of you went with me to save my godfather last year, and I am grateful for that. You know I am, but don’t feel entitled to anything for _helping out a friend_. Don’t feel safe from Voldemort just because people call me ‘the savior’. I may have more drive and determination for defeating him than you do, but I’m not Merlin, and I don’t have an inexhaustible well of magic, knowledge, or resources. One of these days, you’re going to figure out that you have to take charge of your own lives and your own safety and salvation and stop depending on others, pretending that the threat isn’t real because you all know that it is. I am determined to fight Voldemort to my last breath, but make no mistake. It isn’t for any of you; I have my own vendetta to settle. I don’t want to see anyone else hurt because of that man – so please don’t get me wrong – but don’t think that just because you’ve all heaped these different titles on my shoulders that I’m some knight in shining armor who’s going to save your arse because you think it’s my job. My name is Harry. I’m just Harry, and the sooner you realize I’m just a boy, playing a grown-up’s game, trying to learn the rules as fast as I can before I’m once again on the business end of Voldemort’s wand the better off we’ll all be.”

Harry ended his spell and stepped away from the fire. He hadn’t meant to say all of that, but Ginny had brought it up, and it all just came spilling out of him like Myrtle’s overflowing toilets. He’d never realized how resentful of them he’d truly been up until that moment. Nevertheless, Harry couldn’t help but think it was for the best. He hoped that now things would change around here, but he wasn’t going to hold his breath. He’d said his piece, and that was it. If they had anymore issues or tried to butt into his life again, then they were now properly warned and knew exactly what would happen to them.

As he walked towards the boys’ dorms, Harry spun around and sent a stinging hex at Creevey who had apparently shaken off his earlier shock and was standing with his camera at the ready, preparing to take another undesired photo of Harry. “And, if you take one more damn picture of me without my permission, I will do you serious bodily harm, Colin. Do you understand? You’re a nice person, but you’ve caused me nothing but embarrassment and grief since you got here, and I won’t stand it any longer.” 

Colin nodded his head rapidly and pushed his camera behind his back protectively. 

“Harry where are you going,” Hermione called. 

“She just can’t help herself,” Harry muttered, ignoring her and walking up the stairs towards his bed. When he entered the dorm, he looked up to find Blaise sitting against his headboard with a sexy grin, clapping his hands slowly. 

“That was a rousing speech, my Harry,” he said, opening his arms and engulfing Harry when the boy crawled onto his bed and curled up on Blaise’s lap.

He was so glad to see the Slytherin waiting for him. During the short walk up the stairs, his indignation had dissipated, and he just wanted…he just wanted this, Blaise’s strong arms and sweet words. “Maybe they’ll all leave me alone now,” he said, burying his head into Blaise’s warm chest. 

Blaise chuckled and rubbed his hands soothingly down Harry’s back, “I doubt that very much little lion.”

“Little lion,” Harry asked, popping his head up and giving his boyfriend a disbelieving look.

“Yes Harry, you were absolutely ferocious down there, roaring like an incensed lion ready to tear their throats out.” 

Harry laughed disparagingly, but still smiled under the kind words, “More like a sopping wet, hissing house cat you mean.”

Blaise frowned and turned Harry’s face to look at him once more, “Do not sell yourself short, my Harry. That took a lot of courage, and you were very strong and convincing and open and honest with them. They will respond positively to that type of guileless behavior. You will see. I think you made Godric Gryffindor very proud today as you exemplified everything his house truly stands for,” he said, tapping the crest on Harry’s robes lightly. 

Harry stared at Blaise in wonder; it never ceased to surprise and amaze him, the level of confidence the Slytherin had in him. “I’m confused. You said that they won’t leave me along though.” 

“Of course they won’t. They are more than likely more taken with you than they were before.”

“You’re kidding,” Harry gaped. 

Blaise shook his head and closed Harry’s mouth with a finger and a very amused expression, “When I heard your voice Harry, I was completely enthralled, riveted to this bed because I didn’t want to rustle even the coverlet and miss a single word.”

Harry laughed, “Now, I know you’re pulling my leg, Blaise.” 

“I am not,” he responded in mock offense. “I have never been anything less than frank with you, and if you do not believe my words, then perhaps this will persuade you,” he said, thrusting his hips up lightly, pressing his erection tight against Harry’s pert little derriere. 

Harry gasped and turned to look at Blaise, noting the Slytherin's dilated pupils and the amethyst ribbons swirling in his thinning irises. Harry turned his head further and leaned in for a scorching kiss as adrenaline and lust flooded his veins. He thrust down against Blaise with fevered passion, putting everything and everyone else out of his mind.

\---:::---

The following day, Professor McGonagall sat once again upon her desk, looking out at her students. After so many years, she was used to the monochrome world she saw through the eyes of a feline when she transformed, but she was always startled by the stronger scents; it always took at least ten minutes to assimilate the varying smells of pubescent lust, body odor, and the cloying scent of perfumes that tickled the inside of her nose.

Today she had practical work in mind, so she wanted to show the students once again what a successful transformation looked like and what the process entailed. She also had a little surprise for them that she suspected would _inspire_ them to give this assignment the attention and dedication it demands. Magic was a wondrous but often times volatile and unpredictable entity, and she hoped to remind them of the inherent dangers when working with magic prematurely. 

Once they were all seated and watching her quietly, clearly unimpressed as they’d seen this trick before, McGonagall padded to the edge of her desk and nimbly jumped into the air, sinking her claws and teeth into the pull-cord hanging just to the left of her desk. Many of the students laughed as she dangled from side to side until her weight eventually pulled the cord low enough to draw the curtains behind her large desk. 

Dropping to the ground, she looked up at the large expanse of wall behind her and stepped on a switch beneath the desk to begin the projection of memories she’d selected and charmed to play upon her command. Much like a muggle projection screen, the memories flickered and appeared grainy for some minutes before the pictures took shape with startling clarity. Pawing the second lever on the floor, she dimmed the lights and sat back to watch with the students. More than an hour-long lecture, she knew that a visual example would be best, and since it is impossible to detail the steps of the animagus transformation first-hand, viewing a memory was the best way to go about explaining it.

The first memory was brief. McGonagall was standing before a large mirror, speaking to herself. That is how it appeared anyway; in actuality, she was doing this to speak with the class indirectly. Rather than presenting a view of an empty classroom and a disembodied voice, the students could see the memory of her reflection as it appeared to her when she was giving the speech.

 _Merlin, did she feel like a fool making this particular memory_ , she thought, cringing even in cat form. 

_“Children, I have no doubt you are all confused as to the purpose of this screening of my memories, but I assure you it will last but the first hour of class, and the second will be a practical application of the first step of the animagus transformation, meditation. This was the most expedient way to give you all a view into my mind during a transformation. As I mentioned before, this project takes dedication and diligence because once the transformation begins you cannot vacillate midway through or you will fail with possibly fatal consequences. No one but the witch or wizard attempting the transformation can reverse it, so if you wind up in a state where you cannot think clearly to access your magic and the memory of your former self, then all is lost.”_

McGonagall, in her cat form, prowled around the room, using her sharp claws to swipe the legs of dozing or distracted students. This was a very important lecture, and they needed to pay attention. 

_“Now, I have no doubt that very few of you have begun the meditation as I instructed last week, so this is a demonstration on why it is important and what can happen if not treated with the necessary care. First, I will begin with the full visualization of my feline form. When you begin visualization, your magic will guide you, but you will only get bits and pieces of the larger picture. Eventually, when you are ready, you will have a full visual of the animal you will become – color, size, discerning marks, everything – both from the outside and the inside. The first transformation will likely take many minutes, but it is not painful. It is a slow process in the beginning because you do not have first-hand experiences to draw from and speed up the transformation – the necessary tactile, olfactory, and visual experiences you will gain as you spend time in animal form.”_

For the time being, most of the students were very attentive, even taking notes, so McGonagall padded to the back of the classroom and jumped onto one of the empty desks where she had a clear view of most of the classroom and settled in to watch the show.

_“First, I will conjure the memory of my first visualization of my feline form in what is a relatively natural habit. This type of view – though it will be different for each of you even if your form is a housecat – is what you should emulate, the attention to detail and the depth of connection you feel with the animal. When you transform, you will naturally maintain control of your mind, memory, and emotions, but in your initial meditations you should become immersed in the nature of the animal. It will be disorienting and possibly frightening, but with time you will become accustomed to it and will maintain more self-awareness as you continue to meditate and become more familiar with your animal. Let us begin.”_

The image shimmered, and the spells cast around the room altered. Soon the class was presented with an image of a clean, bright bedroom. Due to the nature of the charms Professor McGonagall cast on the room, the students felt as if they’d taken a dip in a pensieve. They could feel plush carpet beneath their feet and a scratchy tongue, cleaning their twitching whiskers. They could hear birds chirping out of an open bedroom window, the sound carried on the soft breeze ruffling the fur on their back. It was strange as the creature they knew to be a cat but couldn’t see began to move about the room, taking them along for the ride. If they didn’t know that this was McGonagall’s memory, then they would have certainly been disoriented as they padded around on all fours with a strong desire to lick their paws and crotch. 

Soon the image wavered and the students were released from the magic’s thrall with shakes and shivers. When McGonagall’s image reappeared, she was smirking. 

_Now, I know that must have been somewhat of a shock to you, but as I said things will progress the more diligent you are, so the effect shouldn’t be as jarring for you all in the subsequent meditations. This should have given you a clear idea of the type of experience you should have. If you have no luck by our next class this week, then I will evaluate you separately to see if you have the aptitude. Now, the next few memories will go much faster, so that you can see the ultimate progression._

The students watched as the image on the wall shimmered between various memories for the next hour. 

_For now, that should about do it_ , memory McGonagall intoned, coming back into view after the last memory. 

_You should all understand the process well enough to begin today in class. You have to work hard to look inside of yourself. Channel your magic to help you, and you should do fine; at this stage in your development you should possess enough magical control to accomplish this; this sort of control is what each of your professors has been attempting to cultivate in each of you in their own way, so thinking of the classes you excel in might provide you with a starting point_.

The students began to murmur and rustle about. Harry turned and grinned over his shoulder at Blaise, a lot more excited about the transformation than when McGonagall first presented it. He was actually pretty anxious to begin now, forgetting all about their half-finished charms project. Ron’s nudge to his ribs regained his attention, and he noticed the professor jumping back onto the top of her desk and sitting down before transforming back into her human form.

“Well, I think you’ve listened to me talk enough for one day, but before I release you to your own minds, Merlin forgive me,” she murmured with a playful smirk, “I have one more memory to show you to impress upon you the importance of this first step.”

The students groaned, and Blaise couldn’t really blame them; if they didn’t get it already then they were never going to get it. The Gryffindor Head of House was really beating the proverbial dead horse. 

“Yes, yes I know, but settle down; I request just a little forbearance.” Without another word, she waved a hand, and a new memory flashed onto the screen. 

It was unclear to Harry just what they were looking at until he noticed the different Hogwarts’ house crests on the students’ robes. They looked a lot different from the ones they were wearing now. In fact, they closely resembled Ron’s dress robes from the fourth year champions’ ball, Harry thought with a quiet laugh. 

Apparently, this was a memory of students from decades ago attempting their first transformations under the careful eye of Professor Dumbledore. They watched three successful transformations before things became strange. The fourth student stood before the class for a long time without moving. 

_Is there an issue Mr. Hughbert?_ Dumbledore asked, standing from his desk chair. 

The child was unresponsive, clearly deep in a meditative state. He couldn’t move, and Dumbledore was sending students for the nurse and Headmaster Dippet. The boy’s eyes flew open abruptly, and they were blood shot, roving in their sockets. Dumbledore tried to speak with him, but it was too late, far too late. 

Fur began to sprout from the sleeves of his robes and his ears; his right arm shrunk, disappearing into his robes. Something unidentifiable sprouted from his back and began to flap as the boy opened his mouth in a horrifying silent scream. His ears disappeared completely from the sides of his head, and he began to foam at the mouth, collapsing and seizing in mid-transformation. 

“This poor boy,” McGonagall said, to the silent appalled students, many of them holding back tears and bile, “Could not complete his transformation; he didn’t have a clear image or complete knowledge of his animal before he unwisely attempted to transform, and he had to a pay a high price. I cannot stress enough the dangers of this type of transfiguration.” 

Lavender’s hand stole slowly into the air, “Pr-professor, did-did he die?”

McGonagall shook her head, “No Ms. Brown, he recovered, but he was never the same again. Needless to say, he could never attempt the animagus transformation again not that he was at all inclined to do so.”

\---:::---

“I cannot believe she showed us that memory,” Ron said, his face puce. Harry nodded as he walked between Ron and Blaise, Draco and Daphne close behind, probably discussing the unorthodox class as well.

“I have never seen something so truly horrifying,” Blaise agreed. “I must admit that I am taking this much more seriously.”

Harry nodded. All he could think about was Sirius and his father. How they could have killed themselves or worse by attempting the animagus transformation so young and without adult supervision or guidance. Now the Gryffindor knew why his Godfather, for all of his pride in accomplishing the animagus transformation, had never mentioned teaching it to Harry. 

“Are we going to start meditating tonight,” Ron asked with a disgusted shiver. 

Harry bit his lip, a little hesitant to begin, but he shrugged anyway. “I guess so; there’s no harm in meditating, and the more we do it the higher our chances of success, right?” 

Blaise nodded and settled his hand on the small of Harry’s back, unconsciously comforting the Gryffindor. “For now, let us go to our next class, and then focus on lunch after.” 

Ron grinned, “Now you’re talking, Zabini.” 

Harry laughed, “You really know the way to a Weasley’s heart, Blaise.”

\---:::---

“Oh my God,” Harry whispered as he looked around Snape’s quarters that night after dinner. “Is there anyone you can’t smuggle in here?” He asked noting all of the death eaters in the room.

“Father! Mother!” Draco exclaimed, pushing past the Gryffindor standing in the doorway. 

Lucius and Narcissa stood to great their son while Harry and Blaise filed into the room and took the only available seats remaining in the room between Rabastan Lestrange and Bill who, not surprisingly, were giving each other a wide berth. Harry nodded politely to Draco’s parents and shook Rabastan’s hand when it was offered to him but otherwise Harry remained quiet and somewhat subdued. Harry hadn’t known that Snape was planning to invite so many people, but he was a little disappointed that Remus wasn’t there. Maybe he’d write him after; surely he would want to help get Sirius back at all costs.

Snape cleared his throat as he looked around the room, “I have requested each of you to join me this night for various reasons all relating to Potter,” he sighed pinching his nose, resigned to the mischief the Gryffindor was continually dragging him into – against his will mind you.

Harry sat back and allowed his professor to dictate the course of the evening because he was surprised and a little out of his depth with the newcomers in the room, each of whom couldn’t seem to keep their eyes off of him. Harry had agreed to help them, and he had no intentions of reneging on that promise, but he was a little daunted by their unexpected presence in the room, and he was a little unprepared to speak with them. 

“First, I have conferred with Lucius and Narcissa as well as Mr. Lestrange here, and they have agreed, in light of Mr. Potter’s recent correspondence with them,” Snape said, leveling the Gryffindor with a stare that clearly said, _We will be speaking at length about that before this night is through_ , “to help us with Black’s retrieval from the beyond the veil.” 

Turning to the redhead, Snape took a step back and yielded the floor to Bill. “Right, much to my surprise, we have completed all of the preliminary work for the portal.” 

Harry whooped ecstatically. They had spent countless hours in the dungeons working on the potions for the ritual, and things had gone really well. Very soon, he would have his godfather back. 

“The only thing left is to retrieve the blood from the bank, and I have spoken to my brothers about that, and we should have a working plan within days. We more than likely will require assistance from each of you, so be prepared for that. On that note, it has, I believe, been some time since we tested the strength of the bond between Harry and Blaise, and I think this is a good time to do so, since that is a crucial aspect of Sirius’ retrieval.” 

“Bond?” Narcissa chose this time to speak up, brushing a delicate hand down the length of her satin robes and smoothing them flat. “I was unaware that the two of them had bonded,” the curiosity and incredulity evident on her face. The Malfoys were close acquaintances of the Zabinis, and despite their political affiliations, she was a little affronted that Lady Zabini would withhold such information from her. 

Lestrange spoke for the first time since the boys had entered the room, “It is not what you are thinking Cissa,” he said, turning fully in his seat next to Zabini, to eye the boy and his neighbor closely. “Theirs is a peculiar one, the likes of which I have never seen before.” 

“You can see it,” Zabini asked immediately.

Rabastan grinned mischievously, “As a matter of fact, I can. I have the somewhat unique talent of being able to see concentrated magic around me. I am better able to control my sight now with occlumency, but as a child it tormented me. Imagine, spells, potions, magical portraits and photos all lighting up and blinking brightly before my eyes like those confounded lights muggles like to drape over trees during Yule,” he sneered at the memory. 

Harry snickered beside Blaise. “We could have used your help weeks ago, but can you tell us what it looks like?”

“Hmm,” Rabastan thought, squinting at them and allowing the light to filter through his occlumency shields more strongly. Flicking his wrist, he grasped his wand as it ejected from his holster and conjured a freestanding chalk board in the middle of the room in full view of each of the occupants. “To put it simply, I will draw a picture.” 

A charmed piece of chalk floated into the air and began to draw on the board as Rabastan guided it with fluid wand movements. “Normally,” he began, “as I see it, a bond between two witches or wizards always link a single part of the anatomy, the heart, for example, between two lovers.” 

Blaise watched avidly as a line was drawn between two human figures, connecting their chests. Next, more figures appeared with connecting lines between their heads. 

“Or their minds, for say…pupil and students,” Rabastan continued. “The part of the body it links dictates the type of the bond, and the bond’s magic exists independently of the users. The Dark Lord and his followers are linked like this,” he said, indicating the image of figures with several lines joining together at one point, presumably at Voldemort. “The dark mark is much more complex than this, but it connects the hearts of each of his followers. It’s a parody of the fealty bond used many millennia ago. It was meant to comfort the knights, knowing that they were under the protection and guidance of their Lord. It was not parasitic as the dark mark is, though it could summon the knights at any moment which was handy in times of war or natural disaster.” 

Harry nodded, completely fascinated by Lestrange’s presentation. 

“What about ours?” Blaise gestured between himself and Harry, grabbing the boy’s hand and rubbing soothing circles over his skin.

Rabastan nodded, “Magic circulates through the body just like blood and oxygen. While the oxygenated blood is pumped through the body by the heart, magic is driven by our magical cores. When we use a wand, sometimes we can feel the magic zipping down our arms, directed and amplified by the wand, so many believed in the past that the magic lies dormant in our cores until summoned and directed down the arm, but that is incorrect by all accounts as we now know.”

He cleared his throat and conjured a glass of water to wet his throat before continuing. “The two of you – and I would be fascinated to know how – have somehow linked your magical cores.”

Snape nodded smugly as his original hypothesis was confirmed. 

“Meaning that the bond’s unique magic is circulating through your entire body and is at this point self-sustaining, living by the strength of your magic,” Rabastan concluded, setting the chalk down on the ledge of the board and replacing his wand. “It will never fade and have to be re-cast as most bonds do over the course of many years.”

Blaise furrowed his brows in thought, “In that case, is it weakening us?” 

Rabastan relaxed back into his seat and positioned his long legs into a more comfortable arrangement, crossing them at the ankle. “No, it is quite the contrary actually. The bond’s magic and the magic of your cores are blending more and more as time passes. I can see it happening now, and by doing so it is connecting your magical cores. Have you two tried any partner spells since you bonded? The strength would be astounding to say the least.”

Harry’s eyes widened as everyone in the room considered the implications of what Rabastan was suggesting. 

“Well, that was certainly enlightening,” Lucius’ baritone cut through the contemplative silence, “but I for one would like to the see the effects of this bond in person. What can it do?”

“I was unaware that it could do anything really besides draw me towards Harry as that was the only outward effect we have seen or experienced aside from the pain,” Blaise said a little breathlessly, looking between himself and Harry repeatedly, trying to imagine his magic leaving his body and intermingling, absorbing and being absorbing by Harry’s. It was strangely arousing and seemed really intimate and personal between the two of them. 

“What do you mean by that?” Narcissa asked. 

Draco groaned. He did not want to sit through another interminable explanation of how Blaise and Potter were bound and the subsequent effects. “They botched a spell and linked themselves together and for a time couldn’t separate from each for more than twenty feet with experiencing excruciating, debilitating pain,” he rushed out. “Now, that distance has increased, but they don’t like to be apart much as it puts strain on their bond and apparently their normal magical stores as well. However, the time they can spend alone is increasing as well even though it sometimes makes them uncomfortable.”

Snape and Lucius arched identical eyebrows at Draco’s accelerated speech while Bill smirked at the blonde’s snarky, impatient attitude. 

“Thank you for that, son,” Narcissa said, ignoring his attitude altogether.

Sighing heavily, Snape stood again and turned to Harry and Blaise, “On that note, we should test the limits of the bond for now. Additionally, in light of Lestrange’s assessment, I have one more thing I would like you two to try afterwards.”

Harry wasn’t sure how much he or Blaise would be up for after this test, considering how battered they were the last time, but nodded his agreement in time with Blaise. 

Twenty minutes and several meters apart later with nary a twinge from either of the boys, Snape grimaced, and Harry knew that the next thing out of his mouth wasn’t going to be good for him, “I do not know what the two of you have been doing the last few days, but the progress you have made in regards to your bond has been staggering.” 

Harry blushed and immediately opened his mouth to say something, anything to derail this conversation because one look at Blaise’s smug expression and Draco’s silent snickering, and Harry knew exactly what they and everyone else in the room was thinking.

For the sake of his sanity, Severus was quick to cut him off with a raised hand, “No, Potter, I do not want to know. Now,” he began, “as I mentioned earlier I would like to begin a new phase of your training, for lack of a more appropriate word. In order to do that, we need more space than I can provide inside, so everyone follow me if you so desire. Otherwise wait here, and for Merlin’s sake _do not_ wander from my personal quarters, and we will return within the hour.” 

Turning with a dramatic whip of his robes, Snape vacated his sitting room, followed by each of his guests. He entered a secret passage just outside of his quarters behind a suit of armor that jumped noisily out of the way at the professor’s command. 

“One day I am going to have to remember to silence that confounded thing,” Snape groused as they narrowly escaped Mrs. Norris’ sight because of the armor’s crashing clamor. 

Harry snickered, “After all of my adventures, I never imagined you would be sneaking me, of all people, out of the castle, Professor,” Harry laughed. 

Even Blaise and Draco had to laugh at the irony of the situation. 

“Shut it Potter,” Snape griped, holding his lit wand a little higher as they approached the exit. 

As they reached the pitch, Snape began to explain their task. “It is very simple. While you have made great progress in a very short amount of time, I fear it will not be enough for Black’s retrieval, so we have to find a way to compensate because I believe that Weasley is correct, Zabini must remain here to tether Harry to this dimension so that we can find our way back.” 

Blaise growled but held his peace the best he could. He was still hoping they could find an alternative to that plan, but at the moment this wasn’t the time to voice his disagreement. 

Snape eyed him strongly and continued, “It is the strongest bond, and it would be senseless to disregard it despite our uncertainties about it. That said; it will be useless to even think of it if Potter can’t step more than thirty yards beyond the veil.”

“What is your plan then,” Narcissa asked, hoping to move this along a little. She and her husband still had many things they wished to discuss with Potter this night, and it was only getting later and darker as they continued to wait. 

“This bond it linked to your magic, and the stronger it becomes the more secure it becomes which decreases its negative effects. I want you two to actively feed magic into the bond. This will strengthen it, temporarily or permanently we have yet to see, but we must try it nonetheless. After we see how things progress, we can continue from there.”

Blaise asked, “How do we go about that, exactly?” 

“It should be rather simple,” Rabastan spoke up, lowering his occlumency shields once more. “The bond’s innate magic and your cores are so closely intertwined that it is difficult for me to tell where one ends and the other begins, simply gathering your magic as if preparing to cast a spell should generate the desired effects Severus is looking for.”

“Right,” Harry murmured, turning to face Blaise as he always did when focusing on the bond. 

“Start small, think about casting the levitation charm to begin,” Snape coached, taking a few steps backwards to give boys room. 

Blaise smirked and nodded confidently as the air began to blow lightly around them. Soon they were walking backwards away from each other, reaching nearly one-hundred yards without an inkling of pain.

Harry whooped and jumped into the air as Blaise grinned widely, a little more sedate. 

“This is brilliant,” Harry crowed. “We’re practically normal.” 

Draco laughed out loud, clearly relieved for his friends even though he couldn’t help teasing the Gryffindor, “Now don’t get ahead of yourself there, Potter. You’ll never be normal!” he called across the pitch. 

Blaise rolled his eyes but couldn’t help snickering at Harry’s indignant huff.

As they all came back together, Snape had a small, pleased smile on his face. “Well done boys. We will take a break, and then in twenty minutes try again without pooling any magic. We can try to determine how lasting the effects are, and then I would like you to cast a few spells normally to see how magically draining this exercise is.”

\---:::---

“That’s a nifty trick you have there,” Bill said, stepping up to Rabastan and pointing at his eyes once they were done experimenting and heading back indoors. “We could really make use of such a talent when we infiltrate Gringotts.”

Lestrange grinned. Severus had told him about that, and it seemed like just the sort of mischief he was looking to get into. It was surely dangerous and illegal, but they weren’t planning to murder anyone. Just like the good old days. 

Draco scowled at the silent conversation Bill was having with Rabastan behind him. He couldn’t hear what they were conversing about, but he’d grown especially possessive of the redhead over the last couple of weeks, most likely due to the intimate dreams when the blonde was sleeping and Bill’s blatant teasing when he was awake.

“I might just have to take you up on that; it certainly sounds worthwhile,” Rabastan nodded with a sly smirk that Draco didn’t like at all. 

“Take you up on what,” he huffed crossing his arms and slowing down to walk beside the two men, leaving the rest of the group to walk ahead of them. 

Bill turned and looked down at the blonde beside him. Draco wasn’t much shorter than him, just a few inches in fact; he was clearly becoming a man, but that bratty scowl between his eyes and the pout on his lips belied his youthful age. Normally, Bill would be put off by it as he’d had to deal with this behavior for years with his younger siblings, but on Draco the brattiness was endearing. 

Bill cocked an eyebrow, “Were you eavesdropping dear Draco,” the redhead teased, throwing an arm around his shoulders. “That’s not becoming of a young heir,” he tsked with a smirk. 

“Hmpf,” Draco huffed, lifting his nose into the air to hide his light blush at the contact. “I am the perfect heir; don’t try to deflect me. It’ll never work.” 

Rabastan was momentarily stunned by Weasley’s forward flirtatious manner with the young blonde, but he shrugged. The young Malfoy wasn’t his heir, so what did he care if his little cousin had a little fun with a gorgeous redhead. In fact, considering all of the time he’d spent in Azkaban with his insane sister-in-law and older brother, he was a little jealous. 

Bill leaned in closer and whispered in Draco’s ear, “Don’t worry Draco,” he breathed, rustling Draco’s loose strands of hair. “I have no interest in him or anyone else who isn’t y-”

Draco blushed furiously and shrugged him off before he could finish his statement, “I don’t care who you’re interested in,” he lied. “It has nothing to do with me.” 

“On the contrary,” Bill grinned, “It has everything to do with you,” he said, staring at the blonde as they paused in their trek to the castle. Bill stared intently at Draco as the cool autumn air rustled their clothes. 

Draco swallowed thickly, “What are you saying?” He wanted to be clear because he was all too aware of their age difference, and despite his confidence he couldn’t help but think that the older man might be playing with him. 

“Are my intentions unclear,” Bill asked quietly, glancing over his shoulder as the group moved further and further away from them. 

Draco shook his head, trying to clear it of the traitorous voice screaming that it didn’t matter if he was playing with him or not if Bill agreed to take off his pants. “You don’t even know me, and-”

Bill stepped up to Draco – completely invading his personal space – and brushed his hair behind his ears, “Then allow me the pleasure of getting to know you.” 

Draco swallowed again and leaned forward to impulsively press his lips against Bill’s. He closed his eyes with a groan, praying that the warm, dry lips against his own weren’t another figment of his imagination. 

He was sure that he wasn’t dreaming as he felt Bill’s arms wrap around him, one hand pressing lightly against the small of his back and the other tilting his head back for greater access to his mouth. 

Bill didn’t push any further, keeping the kiss chaste even as his mind rebelled against him. He looked down as he put a little space between them and watched Draco bite his lip and reach out for more. “I think we should catch up to the group before we’re locked out,” he chuckled, grabbing the Slytherin’s hand and tugging him behind him. 

“Wait, what,” Draco tried to dig his heels in. 

Bill turned and grinned at him, “Relax. This is only the beginning. Although I think your father might eat his cane when I ask for permission to date you.” 

Initially, Draco couldn’t stop the goofy grin that plastered itself to his face at Bill’s words, but the thought of his father’s reaction was enough to turn him slightly green.

\---:::---

“Mr. Potter,” Lucius called as they returned to Severus’s sitting room.

“Hello, Mr. Malfoy,” Harry nodded, dropping back to speak with the Malfoy patriarch. 

Lucius gave the boy a small bow as they reclaimed their seats from earlier. “We would like to speak about the terms regarding your offer of sanctuary,” Lucius said.

“Sanctuary,” Severus gasped whipping around and glaring at Harry. “Lucius you merely informed that the boy had reached out to you; you did not say anything about offers of sanctuary.”

Harry cleared his throat and pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose a little self-consciously. 

“Is there no end to your meddling and surprises,” Severus asked in frustration. The boy was going to give him gray hairs sooner rather than later. 

“Um, right, I was going to tell you about it,” Harry said quickly, “but it never came up, and I honestly didn’t think I’d have to deal with it until Yule,” he finished sheepishly. 

“So you have no plans?” Severus pinched his nose in frustration, “why am I surprised?” 

“He has plans,” Blaise interrupted on Harry’s behalf. 

Harry nodded, “I do actually. I was going to draw up the contract with Sirius since we would more than likely be using his property for the time being, and Blaise and Draco were going to help as well, so we could up with something that you wouldn’t outright reject,” Harry turned to address the Malfoys and Rabastan. “I’ve had Kreacher cleaning and restoring Grimmauld Place, so once everything was ready I was going to have them go there with Sirius and I after Yule. Then-” 

“That horrid place,” Narcissa gasped. As she remembered the place after her aunt’s death, Grimmauld Place was nearly uninhabitable for the common muggle, let alone a Lady of her wealth and stature. Despite her gratitude for Potter’s aid, she had standards. 

Harry smiled, “I know. It used to be a mess, but I think Kreacher will do a much better job following my orders this time. I think you’ll find it rather pleasant, but your place of residence while under sanctuary is negotiable as long as it’s well-warded, so I wouldn’t worry about that at the moment.” 

“What about the Order,” Snape interjected. “They are still using it as headquarters,” he said, flicking his eyes towards the death eaters who have yet to enter the contract of sanctuary or take any other oaths of fealty, and as much as he wanted to believe that they wouldn’t share the location with the Dark Lord, he was no fool. He’d merely invited them to help retrieve Sirius because Narcissa was the man’s cousin and Lucius was Severus’ best friend, and they needed the extra help. Severus knew that the Malfoys were finally disillusioned in regards to the Dark Lord, but he never imagined that Potter would have extended sanctuary to the Malfoy family. No wonder they were so eager – well as eager as a Malfoy ever is – to assist them. 

Harry rolled his eyes at his professor’s suspicion, “It’s still under fidelius, so they can’t find it. Besides, why would you invite them here if you didn’t trust them? I trust you, and your faith in them shown by their presence here only supports my original decision to help them. It will be fine once they enter the contract; their loyalty will be assured through the magically binding contract, and regarding the order, they will have to find a new place for headquarters after Yule. Grimmauld is mine and Sirius’ home, and I want my godfather to feel comfortable in his house again,” Harry stated. 

“Merlin, give me strength,” Severus groaned, stalking towards his hearth and effectively dismissing everyone. Black was going to have a laugh when he heard about the current trouble his godson was stirring up, like godfather, like son.

\---:::---

Things had settled down again after their last meeting with Professor Snape. They were gathering everything they needed for the ritual, and Harry had convinced them that the Chamber of Secrets was the best place within the castle to hold the ritual as it was the most protected place he knew of out of sight of the Headmaster. At least, he hoped it was. Fawkes found him down there easily enough during his second year, but Harry was hoping that it was just a phoenix thing and the bird would be kind and stay quiet about it.

Currently, the boys were back in Professor McGonagall’s classroom for their Thursday class, meditating and attempting to visualize their animals. Many of the students were in a deep trance, Harry included, but many others were struggling to calm themselves and settle the distracting voice of their inner monologue. Hermione was having a lot of trouble silencing her mind, unsurprisingly, and McGonagall was worried that the girl might not have the gift, but she was pleased to note that many of her other Gryffindors were getting along swimmingly: Harry, Dean, Lavender, Seamus, and surprisingly enough Neville. 

Many of the Slytherins were excelling as well, but that wasn’t a surprise to her. They were an insightful bunch, and much of this transformation was instinctual. The Hufflepuffs often times had issues with the transformation because of a lack of confidence, but McGonagall found that of all of the houses in Hogwarts the Ravenclaws had the most trouble, trying to force the transformation. 

Harry had been in a serene state of meditation for nearly forty minutes, when he jerked with a start, panting heavily and knocking roughly into his neighbor, Blaise. He felt the Slytherin’s warm hand cradle his chin as he lifted the Gryffindor’s head and peered into his eyes. 

“Are you alright Harry,” he whispered, trying to remain quiet as the rest of the class was still meditating or dozing off. 

Harry nodded as his breathing began to slow. “Yes, I just-”

Blaise grinned, “You got a glimpse of something? That’s great Harry; you’re one of the first,” he explained gesturing to their classmates who still had their eyes shut in deep contemplation. 

Harry smiled a little but still shivered as he remembered the scene he’d conjured in his head.  
His boyfriend frowned, “What is it Harry?” 

“I don’t…it was a little more unsettling than I originally imagined,” Harry confessed, closing his eyes and allowing his body to relax completely into Blaise’s side. He dropped his head on the Slytherin’s shoulder and breathed easily. 

Blaise frowned and unconsciously lifted his hand to run through Harry’s hair, “What happened?” He could feel Harry stiffen before the boy chuckled self-consciously against his shoulder. The little puffs of air gave Blaise goose bumps and heat pooled in his groin with lurid thoughts crossing his mind. He cast those aside when he heard Harry’s whispered voice in his ear, “It seems so dumb now,” he said, “but-”

“But what, Harry,” Blaise prompted. He wanted to help appease the Gryffindor’s anxiety, but how could do that if Harry wouldn’t talk to him. It was strange how timid Harry was in this moment. 

“I was hunting,” Harry began. “I knew that from the start. I was really high and there were trees everywhere, but I couldn’t be sure at first if I was climbing the trees or flying through them. I wanted to figure it out, but I couldn’t tear my mind away from the animal scurrying across the ground for any significant length of time. I was fixated on the shrew, and I wanted to devour it whole. I flew at it with dogged determination before I felt a conscious desire to do so.” 

“It was amazing, Blaise,” Harry said with sparkling eyes, “my sight is what astounded me at first,” Harry said his voice rising with his excitement, “and then my speed. My flight was flawless, Blaise, and the poor little sucker didn’t have a chance.” 

“So what was the problem,” Blaise asked, smiling at his Gryffindor. He wasn’t surprised at all that his Harry was a majestic bird of prey. It suited him well. 

“It was just disorienting,” Harry said sheepishly. “I feel like such a baby whining about it this way.” 

Blaise smiled down sweetly at him, his expression full of affection, “You’re not an animal, Harry. It is normal for the first glimpse to seem strange, just as the first transformation will be. When you transform you will have the body of an animal, but inside,” he tapped Harry’s forehead lightly, “will be my Harry who will have no more of an inclination to chomp on rodents as you do now,” he said with a grin. 

Blaise watched as Harry laughed and smiled, “Well, there is one rodent I wouldn’t mind chomping on, but I fear he’d be bad for my digestion.” 

The Slytherin shook his head and kissed Harry quickly and lightly on the forehead despite the students around them. None were playing them much attention anyway, immersed in their visualization practice as they were. Harry had told him all about Wormtail and his betrayal of his parents, so Blaise could understand and empathize with Harry’s thirst for vengeance and retribution. “You will have your chance my-”

“Mister Potter! Mister Zabini!” McGonagall’s shrill, stern voice rent the air, “I assume, since you are not deep in meditation, that you have been met with success?”

Harry sat up straight quickly and cocked his head at his head of house and wonder why she was sounding more and more like their defense professor. Yes, Snape was now their defense professor, and he and Harry had developed a more amicable relationship over the last few weeks, but the time away from dunderheaded children playing with dangerous chemicals did little for his taciturn disposition. 

“Yes, we have,” Blaise answered for the both of them, shifting further away from Harry much to the Gryffindor’s disappointment. 

Harry turned to Blaise, “You saw something too,” he questions excitedly. 

Blaise smirked, “Of course, I cannot allow you Gryffindors to surpass me.” 

Harry snorted and turned away from him, “Well, I was first, so-”

“Boys,” McGonagall scolded, “focus before I am forced to take house points from the both of you.”

\---:::---

Harry looked up from his textbook as a first year Gryffindor found him and Blaise in the library with Ron during their free period.

“What is it,” Ron asked, turning to retrieve the folded note from the young girl.

“Professor Dumbledore asked me to give this to Harry,” she squeaked, presenting the paper and running off as soon as she could. 

“These kids get barmier every year,” Ron shook his head, handing the paper over to Harry. 

“What does it say?”

Harry read it quickly before stuffing it in his bag. “Nothing important, just that he wants to see me after dinner tonight,” Harry sighed, clonking his head on the table. He really didn’t want to deal with the Headmaster right now.

\---:::---

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: There’s chapter 12. I hope you guys like it. A lot happened, and there’s more to come. I’m still using many of the plot points from book six and seven, but this is still basically an AU, so things are going to take a sharp left plot wise in the next chapter, so I hope you guys are looking forward to that. I’ve been doing some research for it, so I hope you all will like it.
> 
> Also, just a heads up, we're getting really close to catching up with my posts on the other site, so updates will slow down after next week. I'll only be posting 1 chapter every two weeks after that. Sorry if I've spoiled you guys lol, but I hope you'll still stick around. :)


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Here's chapter 13. I know I'm a week late, but I just decided to post all of the remaining chapters together, so I wanted to wait until I finished chapter 15. It's done now, so I'm posting chapters 13, 14, and 15 now.
> 
> A/N: Hey guys, I’m back! Here’s chapter 13. I really hope you guys like it. It was fun to write, and just to clear things up in case you were wondering, Dumbledore cannot see Blaise underneath the invisibility cloak. I know in canon he could see through it, but I don’t want him to in this fic, so he can’t lol. I mean it’s supposed to be a big bad hallow created by Death; Dumbledore shouldn’t have been able to see through it in the first place in my opinion lolz. So, I hope you can overlook that if it bothers you. That said, I won’t be addressing the hallows in this story. I’m sorry if that’s something you really loved; I did too, but that’ll be too much to take on in this fic, so I had to make a choice, so I chose…well you’ll see in this chapter. :) Also, this chapter begins just hours after the last one ended, just a reminder.

**Chapter 13**

“Harry my boy,” Dumbledore greeted with a twinkle-eyed smile as Harry and Blaise – under the cover of Harry’s invisibility cloak – entered his office directly after dinner. “We have much to discuss this night and not much time in which to do it, so do come in.”

The Headmaster stood stiffly from his chair and gestured Harry towards the two wingback chairs he’d placed near his pensieve just before Harry arrived.

Harry watched the Headmaster closely as he the old man joined him on the other side of the room, and he was surprised and a little suspicious because he really did look like an old man. As he stood from his seat, Harry could practically hear his bones creaking and despite his normal twinkling smile he appeared tired and bedraggled. 

Creasing his brow, Harry reached over and touched Dumbledore’s hand, “Sir, are you feeling alright? You look a little…um out of sorts,” Harry hedged. 

Dumbledore chuckled, “Finally looking my age, am I?” 

Harry laughed a little embarrassedly, “I only meant-”

“Do not worry my boy,” Dumbledore waved him away, “That, my appearance I mean, is one of the things I wanted to speak with you about.” He steepled his hands, “I know that I have lost touch with you this year. We don’t talk as we used to, and I understand that it is mostly my doing. I have…lost much of your…faith, however I must request a little more from you once again.” 

Harry nodded but remained silent, deciding to allow Dumbledore to lay all of the facts on the table rather than trying to anticipate him because this was one of the rare times when Dumbledore seemed ready to level with him. 

Blaise silently edged closer to Harry so that he could hear clearly. The Headmaster’s voice was wavering and it seemed as if he was holding back a thick watery cough. Blaise had never seen the Headmaster so beaten down, and it had him a little shaken. Slytherin or not, Headmaster Dumbledore was a beacon for the entire school, and he had never seen the man with so much as a sniffle.

“Before we begin,” Dumbledore says, “would you like a lemon drop, tea?”

Harry grinned; that’s more like it. “Tea would be nice.” 

Dumbledore smiled softly and nodded, “How have things been, Harry. We have not spoken as we used to, and it would really please this old man if we could reestablish a semblance of the easy relationship we once had.” 

Harry sat back and glanced over his shoulder where his invisible boyfriend was standing. “Um, well Sir, we’re working on the animagus transformation in transfigurations, and Blaise and I are working on the sixth year charms project which-”

“Ah yes, and how are you and Mr. Zabini getting along?” Dumbledore interjected, summoning the strength to conjure himself and Harry a cup of tea. 

Harry couldn’t withhold the sappy smile that crossed his face, so he quickly grabbed his cup and took a sip hoping to disguise how taken with the Slytherin he really was. By Dumbledore’s knowing look, Harry realized with a sigh that he’d failed. 

“He’s…Blaise is really great,” Harry admitted. “I really wished I’d gotten to know him much sooner than now.” 

Blaise couldn’t help preening beneath that admission despite the fact that he was invisible at the moment. He slowly lifted an arm and placed it on the back of Harry’s chair, seeking to be closer to the boy. He wished he could touch him, but having the side of Harry’s face, neck, or arm accidentally disappear might tip their hand, especially since with the bond’s progress Blaise didn’t strictly need to be present in the room. Harry just wanted him there, and Blaise could admit some curiosity.

“That is good to hear,” Dumbledore responded with a complacent nod. “I have noticed that you spend quite a bit of time with him, and I am happy to see that the relations between Slytherin and Gryffindor are finally getting better.” 

Harry nodded. He wasn't sure how much better things were getting between the two houses as a whole since he hadn’t seen any of the younger years intermingling, but there was always hope he guessed with a shrug. 

“Yes, we’re really close now; Blaise understands and respects me on a level not many never have before,” Harry confessed with a contented, easy smile. 

“Um hmm, and how are things going at Grimmauld?” 

Harry frowned, “I’m not sure. I haven’t summoned Kreacher in some time to respect your wishes and the rules.” 

Dumbledore smiled, “I am grateful for your consideration. You may summon him now for an update if you like. I have not called any meetings recently, so I cannot tell you how he is progressing. I have been thinking of moving headquarters to another location to respect your home. You gave the very strong impression,” the Headmaster chuckled, “during our last conversation that you want your home to be treated as such, so I will do my best to rectify the situation.” 

“Thank you Headmaster,” Harry said genuinely grateful, “I was planning to speak with you about that today, requesting that very thing, so I am more than a little relieved; I was worried that you might be upset.” 

“I can see how you would assume so, but I assure you that I am not. I confess that I have not been the greatest mentor or friend to you Harry, and our meeting last time showed me how much you’ve grown and matured, and I am saddened that I have missed it and-”

“It’s okay Professor,” Harry held up a hand. He wasn't prepared for such a contrite Dumbledore considering the seemingly infallible visage he wore every other time Harry had encountered him, and their last conversation hadn’t gone the way the Headmaster had predicted, so Harry thought the man might actually be cross with him. In all of his imaginings about this second _training session_ he didn’t picture it like this. He wasn’t really sure what to make of it.

“I was very upset the last time we met for these sessions, and I had a lot of grief and issues I wanted to take care of, but like you said I’ve matured some and now that those things have been taken care of I don’t see the need to dwell on them. What I’m trying to say is that you don’t need to apologize so much. What’s done is done, and I think we would both benefit from moving forward.” 

Dumbledore smiled, “I would like that very much, Harry. I know things will never been as they were, especially after your fifth year, but it would really please me if could regain some aspect of the easy relationship we once enjoyed.” 

Suspicious of the Headmaster’s new attitude, Blaise narrowed his eyes. He knew that Harry wasn’t distrustful if he didn’t have to be, and their last meeting wasn’t about solely distrusting Dumbledore – although that was much of it – or hating him; it was about Harry asserting himself as a decision making individual. Now that he’s accomplished that he didn’t mind making peace with the Headmaster. Blaise understood that about Harry, but Blaise, as a true Slytherin, reserved the right to remain skeptical and unconvinced. He wasn’t about to allow Dumbledore to deceive Harry again, so he remained vigilant. Something was going on with the Headmaster if his appearance was anything to go by. Blaise was confident that if the old man was being sincere, then it had more to do with his apparent, very unsettling, waning health, than his desire to treat Harry with the open honesty and respect he was entitled to. 

“I will try, Headmaster,” Harry smiled. It was easy for him to layoff of the Headmaster knowing that Blaise was behind him every second of the meeting, watching his back. He didn’t have to be suspicious and analyze every aspect of Dumbledore’s speech, watching for the stray twitches, that uncanny wavering voice, and the new strange trembles because Blaise was all over that. Harry could focus on assimilating the new information Professor Dumbledore was planning to give him today.

“Wonderful,” Dumbledore clapped gingerly, “Now, why don’t you summon Kreacher. I am curious to see how he’s done in the past weeks.” 

_As am I_ , Blaise thought with a silent chuckle. That elf was batty, and Blaise would be surprised if it hadn’t made the house worse than it was before.

“Kreacher,” Harry summoned without preamble.

He entered with a quiet pop. “Half-blood master summoned Kreacher?” the elf asked in a much milder, less vicious tone than Harry had ever heard from the elf.

The elf couldn’t help the half-blood preamble, but considering the vitriol Harry was usually graced with from Kreacher, this was a welcome change.

“Kreacher, how are the repairs to Grimmauld going. If I remember correctly, I gave you really specific instructions, and I expect that you have followed them,” he reminded the elf sternly. 

Phineas perked up in his frame when the elf was summoned. When the Gryffindor entered, he was snoozing in his portrait, but now that he was here the former headmaster was interested in how this meeting was going to proceed from here. He wasn’t too interested in Kreacher’s report as he knew that the elf would have done what he was told, but after that last meeting with the surly potion’s master – and he wasn’t referring to that fat, bumbling idiot teaching potions at the moment – he wanted to know just how forthcoming Dumbledore was going to be. Black would just tell the boy what he knew because – yes, he was a Slytherin through and through and proud of it, but he was also one of the most renown Headmasters of this school’s history, turning out some of the best students Wizarding Britain had ever seen, and he took that inherent responsibility seriously – he was of the mind that he didn’t want that insane maniac to win this war and ultimately take over his school. With the new developments he’d recently learned about, that outcome was looking more likely, and he would give the boy whatever knowledge he needed to prepare him and fill his arsenal, so he could protect both of Phineas’ legacies, the Black family and Hogwarts…if only it weren’t for this ridiculous gag charm on his portrait, a magically binding spell that forbids him to disclose the secrets of the current Headmaster without his or her express permission. 

Sure it had come in handy many times during Phineas’ own time at the helm, but this was a time of war. Things were different, and that should have been taken into account when the Founders charmed the Headmasters’ portraits. 

“It be going well half-blood Harry Potter, sir. My Mistress be very happy about that,” Kreacher answered, bowing low to Harry. 

Harry nodded. “Show me.” 

Kreacher lifted a hand and snapped his fingers. In front of the wizards he’d conjured a large mirror, and Harry was wondering just how many mirrors the Blacks owned that they used for scrying purposes because that’s basically what they were, scrying mirrors; they might come in handy one day.

As the image shimmered into appearance, taking them on a satellite trip through the townhouse, Harry was very pleased with the work Kreacher had done. The house was clean and, more impressively, shining, really showcasing the opulence and wealth invested in the house and furniture. That was something that Harry had scarcely glimpsed in all of the time he’d spent there in the last three years which admittedly wasn’t much, but that wasn’t his fault.

“Very nice Kreacher, continue working on restoring the house, but it looks like you’re mostly finished there. Now I want a full inventory of the items in the house, down the very last spoon,” Harry ordered. 

At the elf’s nod he continued, “Also, I want you to begin stocking the house with the things a family of wizards will need to live there permanently, so the house can be habitable for me.” Harry didn’t glance at Dumbledore because he didn’t want to give anything away with his expression. He wasn’t crazy enough to believe that he could fool Dumbledore with his facial expressions, but regardless he needed Grimmauld prepared for the Malfoy family and Sirius.

“Yes, Master half-blood Harry sir,” Kreacher nodded, happy that he would still be allowed to go home. Harry was prepared to give him some sort of reward, but being allowed to reside with the walls of Grimmauld near his dead Mistress was obviously reward enough for the elf. 

Harry sighed, “I’ll probably be half-blood Harry to him forever now,” he muttered, annoyed. “That’s all Kreacher, thank you for your hard work. Keep it up, and once you’re done with the restoration be sure to keep the place clean and polished and fully stocked. Also, I see that you have taken better care of yourself; continue to do so.” 

“Yes sir,” Kreacher bowed before popping back to Grimmauld Place. 

“That went well,” Dumbledore commented finishing his tea with a long sip. 

Harry smiled, “Thankfully…I never know what I’m going to get with Kreacher; he’s almost as unpredictable as Dobby,” he laughed. 

“That he is,” Dumbledore conceded. 

_‘He’s still ugly as sin,’_ Blaise thought with a smirk, _‘but at least he’s clean now and isn’t as offensive to the nose.’_

“Now,” Harry said, shifting in his seat, “What are we doing this evening?” It was fairly late in the evening, and Harry was ready now to get to the important stuff. 

Dumbledore heaved a large sigh, “First, I have a few more memories for you to view. I had originally planned for you to watch them over the course of the year, so you could enjoy the upcoming holidays, but I fear we do not have the time.” 

Harry sat up straight, and Blaise inched even closer, pressing himself tightly against the back of the Gryffindor’s chair. “What’s happened,” Harry asked urgently. He hadn’t felt anything from Voldemort, but that didn’t mean the dark wizard didn’t have something dangerous cooking. 

“Nothing of the sort you’re thinking,” the Headmaster quickly assured him. “It is I who have little time.” 

Harry didn’t understand, but Blaise thought he was beginning to. 

“Sir?” Harry asked. 

“Harry, as you probably can see, I am not well. I-” he took a breath to stand and move towards the pensieve, gesturing for Harry to follow. “This will be easier to explain after you have viewed the memories, so we will begin there. One of the first is one of your professor’s memories, Professor Slughorn,” Dumbledore said, using a thin, knobby finger to stir the viscous mixture in the basin. “The others are a combination of witness bystander memories and my own memories.” 

Harry’s brows creased. Was he trying to deflect him again? “Sir, I-” 

The Headmaster held up a hand, “I promise full disclosure, Harry, but we must proceed in the correct order.” 

“Of course Sir,” Harry nodded, turning back to the basin. He felt Blaise sidle up next to him to take a dive along with him into the pensieve. The invisibility cloak somehow traveled with Blaise into the pensieve last time, so hopefully it will this time as well. 

“What I share with you today,” Dumbledore prefaced before he allowed Harry to enter the pensieve, “must remain secret. You must only disclose this information to people who you can trust completely. I suggest Ron and Hermione.”

Harry remained quiet, but that wasn’t going to happen. Perhaps Ron, but never Hermione…the person he trusted most was standing right beside him, and whatever this was he trusted Blaise to see him through it. 

They spent an hour running through memories featuring Merope Gaunt and Riddle at the orphanage. There was one gruesome memory of Riddle murdering his father. Harry had no idea whose memory it was or how they escaped Tom’s wrathful wand, but being an orphan himself Harry knew that he would have dealt poorly with that type of rejection as well. However, he liked to believe he was incapable of murdering his paternal grandparents and his father. Given the very alive status of his odious muggle relatives, the odds against Harry murdering his remaining family despite their rejection were high.

It wasn’t until they watched Professor Slughorn’s memory did things begin to add up: Tom’s theft of the Gaunt ring, Merope’s memory of Slytherin’s locket, all of it. 

They flew from the pensieve with a jerk from Dumbledore before the next memory could begin. Blaise’s thoughts were spinning; he’d never heard of a horcrux before, and he wasn’t sure what to think. If the Dark Lord had indeed created horcruxes, then there was no question as to how he was still haunting the living despite Lily Potter’s sacrifice at Godric’s Hollow. 

“Sir,” Harry began with furrowed brows. 

“You understand now, Harry?” Dumbledore asked.

“Voldemort has a horcrux, and that’s why he keeps coming back to life,” Harry said breathlessly. He wasn’t really asking because it made so much sense to him. How many times do you have to kill someone before they stay dead? The fact that he had magical aid actually relieved Harry; he was getting a little worried that he’d never be able to stop him for good. Now, things were actually looking up despite Dumbledore’s grim expression. 

“That’s correct Harry, and until we find and destroy them we can’t vanquish the Dark Lord permanently.” 

Harry nodded, “Alright what’s the plan?” The Gryffindor was energized; this was just the break he was looking for, something he could work towards, something he could get his hands on. 

Blaise looked at his boyfriend as if he’d grown a second head. This wasn’t the sort of reaction he was expecting from Harry after finding out that the Dark Lord really was basically immortal. He wanted to throw the cloak off and shake Harry before grabbing him and secreting him away, so the Dark Lord couldn’t touch him. He’d never really feared the Dark Lord until now after finding out just how depraved the man was. 

Apparently, Dumbledore was of a like mind because he placed a hand on Harry’s shoulder to make sure he had the boy’s undivided attention. 

“Harry my boy, I don’t think you understand the gravity of the situation,” he shook his head. Maybe Harry really was too young for this. “Voldemort likely has more than one horcrux, and if we cannot retrieve them all and destroy them, then we cannot destroy him.”

“I know, but I was beginning to worry that he was just blessed by Merlin or something, and that we would never be able to win. This actually gives me hope. All of this secrecy,” Harry gestured to the basin behind him, “I gather that few people even suspect that Voldemort might have a horcrux and given that he won’t be guarding them personally. If we can find them without his knowledge then he’ll be vulnerable without even knowing it. Tom is the most arrogant person I’ve ever met, and I’ve been spending a lot more time with Draco, so that’s really saying something.”

Blaise barely contained a snort, nearly giving himself away. 

“He’ll go into battle without a care in the world, and we’ll destroy him without him being the wiser. As I see it, this is good news for us.” 

The Headmaster chuckled, “That’s a good way to think about Harry. I am glad to see that you are taking this seriously.” 

“Of course I am, but we need a plan.” 

Dumbledore nodded. “That’s where the rest of that comes in. As you mentioned, Voldemort’s egotism is second to none, and he was very enamored with this school; he once tried to become a professor here before he disappeared overseas. All of that gives us insight into what he may have chosen as a horcrux and where he may have hidden them. I believe he created seven of them, four of them being the founders’ heirlooms: Ravenclaw’s diadem, Slytherin’s locket, Gryffindor’s dagger, and Hufflpuff’s cup.”

“Alright, but what are the other three?” 

“One, you have destroyed yourself, Harry,” Dumbledore nodded sagely. 

Harry was a picture of confusion. He didn’t remember destroying an heirloom with a piece of Voldemort’s-

“The diary!” 

“Precisely. And there are two others that I have identified. One I have in my possession, and the other I know the location of, but it will be particularly difficult to get to. The first is this, the Gaunt ring,” Dumbledore said, lifting his right hand to show the ring to Harry. 

“Unfortunately, I have not had the luck you had in destroying this one, but I am hopeful that after this day you can shed some light on the situation for me.”

Harry swallowed as he stared at the innocent looking ring containing Voldemort’s soul. Licking his lips, he looked around swiftly for Blaise in spite of the fact that he couldn’t see him; his shoulders relaxed slightly as he felt the soft material of his cloak resting against his left elbow. “I’ll do whatever I can, Sir.” 

“Thank you, now the last, I believe, is his familiar Nagini; Tom has an unnatural relationship with that snake aside from the normal familiar bond between animal and wizard. As I am sure you remember from your fifth year.” 

“Yes, I can’t forget that,” Harry mumbled. 

“The remaining memories should shed some light on the location of Hogwart’s wayward heirlooms, so shall we?” the Headmaster asked, gesturing once again to his pensieve. “I believe we have time for just one more tonight.”

\---:::---

While Harry and Blaise were visiting Dumbledore that evening, Draco thought it a fine time to really begin his visualization for the animagus transformation because he wouldn’t have much time in the next few days. He was meeting with Longbottom the next day during most of his free period and probably after dinner as well to finish their charms project, and on top of that they were gearing up to attempt his cousin Sirius’ rescue very soon. Now was likely the only time he’d have the peace and quiet to try meditating; hopefully this time he will have more success than last night.

Last night as he lay in bed Draco had attempted, for the first time, to meditate and find his animagus form, but that had only led to visualization of Bill’s hard, naked body just before falling asleep and a mess in his pants in the morning. Draco nearly groaned at just the thought and shook his head to clear it. Now – in the middle of the common room– was not the time for that. Draco stood and took a deep breath as he took off his school robes and draped them behind him over the side of the large comfortable arm chair; he leveled a threatening glare at several younger years as they stampeded into the common room towards their dorms, fearful of being caught outside after curfew. 

“Quiet,” he hissed. “You are already late and in trouble; there’s no need to disturb the rest of us,” he glowered. 

Sitting in silence for several minutes, Draco began to shift unconsciously and goose bumps began to rise on his skin despite the nearby fire’s valiant efforts to warm him. 

_Draco was surprised to look around only to be blinded by white; for a moment he panicked believing that he’d somehow lost his eyesight because for what seemed like miles and miles he couldn’t discern a single hard line, no edges denoting objects far away, just bright white light._

_Soon he realized as he began to stumble around on four paws disoriented that he was surrounded by white snow and ice. Taking a hesitant step forward he watched his pure white foot lift and then sink and disappear into the snowy bank he was standing upon._

_He couldn’t help himself as he began to jump and frolic in the snow, kicking the bright flakes up all around him like the charmed snow globe his mother set out in her parlor during the winter holidays._

_Suddenly his ears perked up, and he crouched down into the snow, trying to become as small as possible; the snow and ice beneath him was cold on his underbelly, but not unbearable. He was apparently very used to the subarctic climate and frigid temperatures. Scuttling forward on his stomach, he reached the crest of the hill before him, and his sharp eyes darted from left to right as he his ears perked up slightly off of his head trying to pick up the slightest sound from his surroundings._

_There! Just a few hundred yards away was a bear and her young cubs, ambling slowly in his direction. The mother had just recently emerged from the sea because he could see the sunlight reflecting off of her shaggy winter coat. That was the only reason he’d noted them just upwind. Turning without a second thought, Draco high-tailed it away from the young mother; polar bears were nasty to tangle with on any given day, but a mother protecting her cubs was a recipe for disaster. Once on a rampage, they couldn’t be stopped._

_Speaking of cubs, Draco lifted his nose and scented the air. Taking off towards the east he ran quickly, swiftly dodging any predators he didn’t want to encounter until he reached a hidden cave, nearly completely covered by snow. The quiet yips coming from inside soothed his pounding heart of the anxiety he wasn’t aware of during his flight across the tundra, and yet at the same time it fueled his hunger as his stomach growled._

_He squatted on his four limbs and inched forward nosing himself into the snug cave entrance. When the three young kits, a small litter, climbed out to meet him, he opened his maw wide, his sharp teeth gleaming brightly in the sunlight-_

“Well,” he huffed, leveling a scowl at his other best friend who'd interrupted his meditative state. “I know I’m an arctic animal which is pretty cool and not that surprising given my complexion and hair color, but I might be a kit murdering monster which is slightly discomfiting. What if I’m something slimy and unpractical like a sea leopard…or worse,” he gasped, reeling backwards and staring at Daphne in horror, “what if I’m a sea lion. Dear Merlin, no,” he quietly begged, forgetting about his furry paws and the run across the arctic plains.

Daphne rolled her eyes and summoned the other chair from the other side of the room, “Sea leopards are hardly slimy, and they’re vicious predators. I think it suits you, or would you rather be a lemming or perhaps a penguin, waddling around ungainly?”

“Ha, ha, very funny,” he snarked, lifting his bag to retrieve some of the notes he needed to review for his meeting with Longbottom the next day. “I cannot believe you just suggested I might be an arctic rodent and a tiny one at that.”

Daphne looked at Draco as he prepared to dive into his work and waited for him to start talking. When he didn’t and her patience wore thin, she cleared her throat, “Draco.”

“Yes?”

“What is going on?”

“I don’t know what you mean,” he mumbled, biting his lip and creasing his eyebrows trying to figure out Neville’s handwriting. 

“Dra-”

“Hang on Daphne. I can’t make heads or tails of this, and I need to-”

Daphne narrowed her eyes at him, “No, I will not ‘hang on’!,” she nearly shrieked at the end of her rope. “You are going to talk with me now, or so help me Draco I will-”

Draco’s eyes widened as he jerked up and really, clearly looked at his friend. Clearly something was bothering her, and he’d failed to notice. Whatever it was it seemed to have something to do with him. He shuddered a little and sat back in his chair once more, putting a little more distance between the two of them because the last time she’d looked at him like that he’d had orange skin for two weeks over the summer hols after third year. 

He swallowed and set his work aside. “What’s wrong Daphne?” 

“I should be asking you and Blaise that, but oh wait…he isn’t here. What a surprise,” she said sardonically. 

“Daphne,” Draco began hesitantly. “We can’t-”

“You can’t tell me right?” Daphne she asked, staring Draco directly in the eyes. 

“It’s more complicated than you think.”

“Is it the same thing that you couldn’t tell Blaise and I before,” she asked concernedly, “because you’ve been looking so much better lately, no glamours and your gaining your weight back-”

“Merlin, could everyone tell!” Draco exclaimed barely resisting throwing his arms in the air. 

“Anyway, I just thought that things were better now, but you’re still hiding things from me; it’s like you and Blaise have cut me out of your lives, and I just-”

Draco could see the hurt in her eyes, and it burned in his chest because Daphne had been a great friend in the last few years: dependable, funny, understanding, and loyal. However, most of what he knew was no longer his to tell, and the few that were he couldn’t divulge until his family was safe with Harry and under his protection. Still, there were a couple of things he could tell her. 

Moving closer to her, he whispered. “Don’t be upset. I can’t tell you everything, but you’re right. The thing that was bothering me earlier this term has been taken care of for the most part, so I don’t have to deal with it anymore.”

She sighed and pressed a hand into Draco’s, “I’m glad to hear that. You were really beginning to worry me, and Blaise was worried too.”

“Yeah, I know,” he smiled wryly. “He told me…loudly,” he laughed. “Well, loud for Blaise anyway. I don’t think he knows how to properly raise his voice.”

Daphne laughed lightly behind a demure fist, “That’s very true. He’s fierce but quiet, the ideal Slytherin.”

“Tell me about,” Astoria sighed, sidling up to her sister’s chair. 

“Oh no, go to your dorm, Astoria,” Daphne chided. “We have talked about this; Blaise is too old for you.”

“And, dating Potter besides,” Draco said with an evil smirk, examining his nails.

Both girls’ eyes opened wide with shock; they were completely gobsmacked. 

“Lies,” Astoria hissed with narrowed eyes. “Blaise would never soil himself with such low-class verm-”

“Watch your mouth Astoria,” Draco glared, dropping his hand and facing her head on. “Don’t talk about things you know nothing about.”

Daphne became even more surprised at Draco’s venomous tone. She never thought she’d see the day when Draco was defending Potter. 

The younger girl looked as if she was gathering herself for a fight, so Daphne raised a hand, “I said go to bed, Astoria. I won’t repeat myself,” she warned sternly. 

When the younger girl stormed off in a huff, Daphne turned, “Blaise is dating Potter? Do the Gryffindors know? How did I miss this? I know they have been spending a lot of time together, but I never suspected, and I-” 

Draco chuckled, “Like I said, it’s more complicated than it seems. You will have to speak with Blaise for the details, but they have been together for a little while now, and you will do well to speak cautiously about Potter around Blaise because he is very protective of him.” 

She snorted daintily with a confused expression, “He’s not the only one. What I want to know is why.”

Draco took a deep breath, “Harry is…I won’t say he’s different than we thought he was because I still think he was a right git when we were younger, but he’s different now.” 

Daphne contemplated that for a moment. “Well, I hope I have the chance to see that,” she said pointedly, letting Draco know she didn’t like being left out and she would speaking to Blaise about it tonight when he returned from wherever he was, presumably, with Potter.

\---:::---

Dumbledore shuffled over to his desk to sit down heavily. “The last set of memories we do not have time to view this night,” he said between coughs.

Harry stood back, “Should I send for Madame Pomfrey, Professor?”

“No, my boy, Severus has put me on a potions regiment that has been relieving the majority of my symptoms, but it is only a matter of time.” 

Blaise froze and his blood turned cold just as the blood drained from Harry’s face. 

The Gryffindor asked the million dollar question, “Wh-what do you mean, Professor?” 

Dumbledore took a deep breath, “I have been thinking since our last meeting, and I was relieved to see the new strength in you despite my lingering desire to doubt and control you. Now, I am heartened to see you have blossomed into a capable young man more than capable of leading the light in this war because I am dying, Harry,” he confessed without batting an eye. 

“I-I,” Harry was speechless. What Dumbledore was saying just didn’t make any sense at all. There was a rushing sound behind his ears, and Harry was more than grateful for the invisible presence behind him. “I don’t understand. What happened, Sir?”

Dumbledore held up his hand, “As I mentioned earlier, I have been unable to destroy Voldemort’s horcrux, and wearing it has contained much of the twisted, sinister magic of the horcrux, but in doing so I have subjected myself to its deadly curse,” he explained, lifting his wand to dispel the glamour on his hand. 

Harry gasped aloud at the gruesome sight of the Headmaster’s mangled, gnarled, blackened hand. 

Blaise had never seen anything like it. Whatever this curse was, it was devouring the man’s flesh, and it had to have been painful. It was encroaching inexorably up his wrist towards his shoulder. 

“Severus has stalled much of its progress, but eventually I will expire.”

Harry closed his eyes; he couldn’t listen to the Headmaster talk about himself like he was the Dursleys’ old bologna. It wasn’t right; he was a giant. He couldn’t be beaten by this.

“There has to be something we can do,” Harry whispered.

Dumbledore smiled through a hacking cough. “Everything that can be done has been done, Harry. That’s why I need you to finish this when I am gone. Severus will help you along the way, but he is the only one who knows of Tom’s horcruxes. I know this is a heavy burden, but no one else can do it. You must find the hidden horcruxes and destroy them; it won’t be easy. From the memories I have gathered, none of them – aside from Nagini, the diary, and the ring – were hidden on the British Isles. They are in different locations scattered around the globe, most probably Egypt and the Amazon. Tom, even as a child, was very intrigued with the afterlife and myths of immortality. Unsurprisingly, before he came to Hogwarts, he spent much of his time researching the Egyptian Gods and Goddesses. That’s our only lead now, but hopefully we can discover something more in due time.”

\---:::----

“Harry…Harry…Harry!” Blaise called, grabbing Harry by the arm and yanking him around to face him. The Gryffindor’s expression was distraught; he looked completely overwhelmed.

Harry fell into him, “Blaise, what are we going to do,” he asked desperately, fisting the Slytherin’s robes. “I never imagined him dying, so…so what do we do?”

Blaise ran his hands comfortingly over Harry’s body, warming his back, shoulders, and arms. “I do not know, Harry, but we will deal with it.” Blaise strove to be as positive and strong as possible for Harry, but he wasn’t sure how to navigate this either. 

Harry breathed Blaise’s scent in and out calmly for many minutes. “We can do this. We just have to regroup. We’ll talk to Severus about it, and then we’ll make a new game plan.” 

“Exactly,” Blaise nodded numbly, squeezing Harry tightly. He wasn’t sure how he would go on everyday just waiting for Dumbledore to drop dead in his office and not show up in the Great Hall for breakfast or lunch. “For now we can just go along as planned; get your godfather, take care of the Malfoys,” he bit his lip and leaned backwards against the cool stone wall. 

Harry nodded silently into his chest; he wasn’t sure what they were going to do, but they would handle it. They didn’t have any other choice. Harry tilted his head up and pressed his lips against Blaise’s. 

Blaise groaned, deepening the kiss and seeking solace in Harry’s embrace. “Let’s just go to bed,” Harry suggested breathlessly. 

Blaise waggled his eyebrows. That sounded like a grand idea, and he knew just what to do once they got there to distract his lover from the confusion and anxiety crashing over them.

\---:::---

“Blaise,” Daphne called as the boy walked slowly into the common room. She cast tempus and noted the late time as she replaced her ancient runes textbook in her book bag. “Getting back pretty late aren’t you,” she said.

“Hello Daphne,” he waved making his way by her towards his dorm as Harry trailed after him beneath the invisibility cloak. Good thing Harry’d thought to wear it inside in spite of the late hour. 

“Wait, I want to speak with you. I waited up,” she insisted. 

Blaise turned to her, “Can wait it until tomorrow? It has been a really long day.” 

“No, it cannot,” she shook her head. 

“Alright, allow me to take my robes and bag up, and I will come back down shortly.” 

She nodded and sat back to wait for him. 

“I am sorry, Harry,” Blaise told Harry as soon as they entered his room and settled behind the privacy of his curtains. 

“It’s alright; it looks kind of important,” Harry said quietly, slipping back into his shocked state, thinking about Dumbledore’s withered hand. 

Blaise watched him silently, but for the first time he wasn’t sure what to say to make him feel better. He just wanted to lay with him and hold him tightly. “I will hurry back okay,” he kissed his Gryffindor lightly on the forehead, running his fingers through Harry’s soft messy locks. 

Harry smiled up at him lightly, “Don’t worry Blaise; I think I’ll go speak with Snape. I’m sure he’s up, and I want to ask him about…you know,” he lifted his hand helplessly. 

Blaise nodded, wanting to go with him. After all of that, learning about the horcruxes and the impending death of the light’s white knight, he was reluctant to let Harry out of his sight. His protective instincts and possessive urges were raging in his chest. “Okay, but do not stay long Harry. I want-”

Harry chuckled weakly, “Okay,” he acquiesced, interrupting him with a kiss.

\---:::---

By the time he reached Snape’s office, Harry was completely worked up again without Blaise’s steadying presence.

Severus looked up questioningly as he heard his office door slam open abruptly, and his body momentarily went rigid as he imagined that the castle was under attack because that was the only reason he could think of that would embolden someone to burst into _his_ office in such a manner this late in the evening. It was well past curfew for all students, even the upper years. His Slytherins knew better, and – as incompetent as Severus found him to be – he figured Slughorn could handle any minor potion related disaster without Severus’ aid.

“Why didn’t you tell me he was dying?” Harry yelled, stomping into Snape’s office uninvited.

Severus placed the essay he was grading back on his desk and stood to confront Harry. He flicked his wand and closed the door behind the boy and moved to stand before him, crossing his arms sternly. 

“It was not my place to tell you,” Snape sneered. When Harry deflated, consumed with uncertainty and sadness, Severus took a step forward and placed a strong, comforting hand on his shoulder. “Just as I keep your secrets, I hold closely the Headmaster’s as well Harry.” 

The Gryffindor nodded and leaned forward, placing his face in his hands. He just didn’t know what to think. He had been angry and distrustful of the Headmaster, but he never imagined his life without him; he didn’t know how to navigate this.

“What do we do?” He whispered, voicing his question to the room at large because right now he had no idea; his mind was a jumble of thoughts: regrets, lost conversations, hopes and aspirations, confusion and aching sadness and helplessness. 

“How much did the Headmaster tell you?” 

“Everything as far as I can tell, but you can never be completely sure with Professor Dumbledore,” Harry answered. He kind of felt like the world was unraveling around him, and he kind of wished that he hadn’t left Blaise in the Slytherin common room, but his boyfriend needed time to speak with his friends. Harry would deal without him for a little while. He had his cloak, so it would be simple enough to sneak into Blaise’s dorm room when he was finished speaking with Professor Snape.

\---:::---

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Read and review! Bye!


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Hey guys! Here’s chapter 14, and I have many people to thank for the completion of this chapter, but before that I want to thank EVERYONE who commented to lend support or leave suggestions. Even if I didn’t choose or incorporate your idea, I want you all to know that you’re an inspiration to me! Don’t doubt that.
> 
> More specifically, I first of all I want to thank Bella from AO3. She not only helped with inspiration for this chapter she also lit a fire under my feet and got this chapter out now instead of three days from now, so thank you! She calls herself  golden_dragon_luvr  here on HPFandom. I also want to thank  Abigail, and PureSlytherin for inspiring different parts of this chapter too, especially Bookivore for the Fred and George part. I hope it meets your standards because I didn’t go Rube Goldberg-esq with it at all, but I hope you find it amusing since I decided to try a more humorous route with them rather than something super serious because your comment was funny, and I knew I wanted to try and be a little bit funny with them. I want to thank  Precious M. too. I didn’t go too in depth in how the goblins think and operate, but I definitely had your comment in mind when I wrote parts of this. 
> 
> Also, I realized that I can go ahead and credit  WyrdSmith  and Sable01for your suggestions of birds of prey for Harry’s animagus form and  AmaranteXX  and PureSlytherin for the arctic fox ideas. I was really inspired by everyone’s suggestions, so thank you all who suggested anything at all. You’ll see in the next chapter or two what everyone is in the class with McGonagall. I used quite a few of you guys’ choices because a lot of them were really great. Once everything is revealed, I’ll tell you guys which animal was my favorite. I also want to thank AmaranteXX  for one of your other choices. I used it in this chapter but just for a different character. You’ll see. And, that’s all. Please enjoy this chapter. It’s my longest by far! 
> 
> If I left someone out on accident, please, please let me know! I didn’t do it on purpose and I’ll fix it. :)
> 
> This chapter begins right after the last chapter ends.

** Chapter 14 **

Harry slipped as silently as possible into the Slytherin common room, making his way invisibly up to the dorm room Blaise shared with Draco. He’d spent the last two hours talking to Severus about everything: Dumbledore’s impending death, Sirius’ rescue, the Malfoys, the horcruxes, and he just felt completely, emotionally and mentally, rung out. He felt like the Dursely’s tele during a storm, all filled up with senseless white noise.

Somehow he needed to press the reset button on his brain, so he could recharge and not feel so overwhelmed because even with Severus’ reassurance Harry still felt dazed. There were so many things that needed to get done, and they were preparing for them, but as of yet had no real results for anything. It was a little disheartening; it felt like everything was about to converge at the same time, and Harry wasn’t sure how he was meant to weather it all. 

He slipped off his clothes as quietly as possible and dropped them soundlessly into Blaise’s open trunk. In only his boxers, he slipped between the curtains surrounding Blaise’s bed. 

“Harry?” Blaise’s tired voice sounded. 

“Hey, it’s me. You can go back to sleep; I didn’t mean to wake you,” Harry whispered, sliding under the covers.

Blaise yawned and stretched and sat up, “No, it is okay. I was not really sleeping, just dozing off.” 

Harry nodded although he wasn’t sure if Blaise could see him. There was very little light filtering through the curtains. 

Blaise reached up and felt around for Harry, pulling the boy into his body and running a hand through his hair as they settled together against the pillows. “What did Professor Snape say to you? Do you want to talk about it some more?”

Even though he couldn’t see him well in the darkness and without his glasses, Harry looked up at Blaise beseechingly, “No, I don’t want to talk about any of it anymore tonight. I- I just want…” he voice trailed off as he bit his lip. “I just need everything to stop…for just a moment,” he whispered into the darkness, running his hands down Blaise’s skin wherever he could reach.

Blaise stopped moving and held his breath. He knew where their relationship was headed, and he wanted Harry so badly, but he still wasn’t sure if the Gryffindor was ready. They hadn’t spoken about it, and Blaise didn’t want to inadvertently scare him away or hurt him. 

He stilled Harry’s wandering hands, “Harry-”

“Please,” Harry pleaded, kissing Blaise’s fingertips. He could think of so many reasons why they needed to do this. They needed to make the bond stronger to hopefully better protect him when he went to retrieve Sirius, to relieve the tension on the bond that struck them at odd moments, to help them both forget for a moment about all of the burdens they had to carry, but most importantly they needed to do this because they both wanted to. 

Blaise moved so quickly Harry could hardly follow his motion, and subsequently he was slightly disoriented to find himself beneath Blaise and pressed down into the bed.

Harry’s breath caught as Blaise began licking and nipping at his neck. With a groan, he arched his back to give the Slytherin more room to kiss down the column of his neck. 

“Whatever you want, Harry,” Blaise murmured against his Gryffindor’s soft, smooth skin. He couldn’t get enough of his taste. “You can have whatever you want.” 

Harry pressed his hands against Blaise’s shoulders, clawing at his skin with blunt nails. His brain was scrambling as Blaise worked his way down his body, playing it like a fine tuned fiddle. His fingers left trails of fire down Harry’s skin, and his lips left oversensitive bone-chilling goose bumps in their wake. He felt completely overwhelmed in the best, toe-curling way possible. 

“Blaise.” 

His name was like a gift to Blaise’s ears as Harry undulated below him. He sat back and reached for his wand, casting a low light charm. The spell poured dim light over Harry. The sight nearly took the Slytherin’s breath away. Harry had discarded his glasses long ago; his heavily lidded eyes were burning a hole through Blaise as Harry licked his lips and repositioned himself before Blaise. The Slytherin had never seen Harry so open and ready for him. His body was in complete contrast to Blaise’s. Blaise’s muscles were taut with desire and the strain from trying to restrain himself and take Harry slowly, but his little lover was so pliant beneath his roaming fingers, allowing to position and reposition him as he saw fit. The light was casting shadows over Blaise’s skin, but Harry seemed to glow ethereally beneath the low light. 

“You are the most beautiful thing I have ever seen,” he whispered.

Harry blushed rosy red and he turned his head in embarrassment. 

Blaise bent over and licked a stripe up his throat towards Harry’s mouth, swallowing the Gryffindor’s groan when he palmed his dick through his underwear. Blaise pulled back and Harry lifted up and kissed his neck and the underside of his chin with two quick consecutive loving touches. And, suddenly, Blaise couldn’t control himself any longer. 

Blaise slid his hand underneath the fabric of Harry’s pajamas and gripped his erection tightly, pulling Harry out of his pants and sliding down to swallow him down. 

Harry moaned wantonly and arched up and pressed his heels down into the mattress. His hand clenched the sheets around his head before he collapsed into a panting, gasping mess underneath Blaise’s talented tongue. 

“Oh my…Bl-Blaise,” Harry clenched his eyes closed tightly as the pleasurable sensations raced unchecked from his groin to his brain, short-circuiting his thoughts.

“So-so good, Blaise…I-I,” Blaise had never gone down on him before, and he didn’t know what to do with himself. He wanted to reach down and touch his lover, but if he let go of the bed covers he would lose awareness of his arms altogether. As it was, he couldn’t control his legs at all.

“More…please,” he panted as Blaise tongued his slit. 

Blaise pulled back to watched as he worked Harry over. His own balls were heavy and his cock was pulsing against the silk fabric of his sleep pants, but he strove to ignore it. He wanted to take Harry apart piece by piece; this was just the beginning. He pumped Harry slowly and then used his short nail to tease his head, digging his nail lightly into the slit and working it around more than his tongue could. 

Harry screeched and rose completely off the bed as his orgasm took him by surprise surging from his loins and burning up his back, melting his brain. He couldn't even remember his name. This was the most exquisite, millisecond-long identity crisis he’d ever experienced. 

“That was…that was…what was that?” he panted as he collapsed heavily on Blaise’s bed. 

Blaise smirked up at him, “You liked that, yes?”

“Hell yes,” Harry moaned, looking down at his twitching cock like he’d never seen it before. That’s when he noticed Blaise was still pumping it languidly and that he was still half-hard. 

Blaise smiled down at him sweetly, “We are not done yet,” he whispered seductively, releasing Harry to stand up and tear his own pants off. He was completely bare to Harry. This wasn’t the first time he’d seen it, but Harry marveled at his lover’s beauty. Blaise’s erection was straining towards him, and he wanted Harry. Harry wasn’t always sure why, but he knew he was so damn lucky. 

Gesturing towards Harry’s soiled underpants, “Take those off, Harry,” Blaise smirked. 

Harry scrambled to quickly divest himself of the fabric and reached out to grasp Blaise’s cock, stroking it the way Blaise liked, pumping fully and squeezing the head tightly. Harry thought that might hurt, but the tortured hiss that Blaise released spoke otherwise. 

Batting his hand away, Blaise retrieved his wand from where he’d set it floating and summoned the oil he kept hidden from view. “Lay back, Harry.”

Harry swallowed. He knew what was coming; he’d read about this over the summer a lot, but at the moment he felt completely unprepared and nervous and hungry for it all at the same time. He spread his legs without a word and reached down to spread his cheeks. 

Blaise looked at the pink bud and groaned, “So sweet,” he murmured, rubbing a finger around the puckered entrance. “My sweet Gryffindor.”

“Yes, only yours,” Harry groaned when Blaise pressed his finger inside, wiggling and twisting it around. It was strange, but Harry wanted this so badly. He reached up and grabbed Blaise’s shoulder for leverage as he canted his hips forward, begging for more. 

“We can take our time, Harry,” Blaise assured him. 

Harry shook his head frantically; he didn’t want to take his time right now. He could feel the bond pulsing beneath his skin urging him forward toward its completion, and it was fueling his lust and arousal, infusing his body with energy. 

Blaise felt it too as his cock was leaking precum onto his sheets in copious amounts. He wanted nothing more than to become one with Harry in this moment, but his desire to never hurt his sweet little lover was stronger than his body’s cravings and the bonds compulsions, but it was a near thing. His muscles were quivering and he was completely overheated. His body was inching closer to Harry like the boy had his own gravitational field and Blaise was hopelessly caught within his pull. 

In this time, Blaise had pressed three fingers inside of Harry and he was searching desperately for the bundle of nerves that would set Harry on fire. 

Harry cried out in surprise, and pleasure washed anew over him and his cock gave a violent jerk. “W-what?”

Blaise chuckled, the sound a mere sigh in the confines of the curtains. He stretched him as much as he could, but couldn’t take much more. He slid slowly up Harry’s body and positioned himself at his entrance. 

“Are you ready my Harry?”

“Yes,” Harry panted, turning over, displaying his rounded derriere. 

Blaise groaned at the sight and immediately began to press in slowly. He couldn’t stay away any longer. 

“Fuck,” he groaned, the heat inside of Harry was like nothing he’d ever experienced before. He was inside of Harry, and it was only getting hotter and hotter; he felt like Harry was about to burn a hole inside of him and nestle inside. Harry’s body was a revelation, and his fingers dug into the Gryffindor’s hips with a bruising grip. After this, there was nothing he wouldn’t do for this boy, nothing he wouldn’t give him. His world began and ended with Harry. 

“You are so perfect, Harry, so perfect for me,” Blaise panted as he pressed forward and began thrusting. He kissed down Harry’s back, his voice a whisper against the Gryffindor’s skin, releasing a litany of endearments and sweet-nothings. 

Harry wanted to turn around to see Blaise’s face. He wanted to respond and tell Blaise how he felt, but his face was buried into the pillows beneath him, and beyond that the pleasure charging through him from Blaise’s powerful claiming was distracting him. He wanted to give…to say…something…he wanted so much, but it was impossible to focus on one thing for any length of time. He never thought that he could feel this way, that Blaise could make him feel this way.

His entire world was on fire, and at the center of it was his Slytherin, the source of the inferno but a cool balm at the same time. 

As the pleasure began to crest and his orgasm was imminent, Harry could feel the bond winding tighter and tighter around him as his orgasm built. Then the bond’s magic relaxed like it never had before, dissipating beneath his skin. He felt his bones melting into Blaise’s body heat, rocking with the Slytherin’s powerful thrusts and guiding hands that gripped his hips. With a shout explosive pleasure hit him like a shot, destroying him and rebuilding him at the same time. 

Blaise strained forward, stabbing into Harry without restraint, a growl rumbling in his chest and throat; Harry’s body welcomed him, opened up so well for his cock, and he was mesmerized by the sight of his hole swallowing him so deeply. In the back of his mind, he could feel the bond’s magic asserting itself and raging beneath his skin, urging him forward. It heightened the experience like no aphrodisiac could imitate. Blaise could feel Harry all over his body from the tips of his toes to the edge of his nose; he was consumed by Harry, and it was beautiful and scary and overpowering. 

“Mine,” he grunted as he spent himself inside of Harry, coating his insides with his essence. He felt the bond snap into place forcefully, remaking him anew.

\---:::---

“Harry.”

“Hmm,” Harry hummed, tilting his head up to look at Blaise.

Blaise sat up and pushed Harry gently away from him so he could slide out of bed. 

Harry creased his brows in confusion as he watched Blaise leave their bed and head to his trunk. What could he need so late, well early in the morning? Blaise slid back beneath the covers shortly, and Harry jumped when his cold feet touched his skin. 

Blaise chuckled for a second before he sobered and retrieved his wand to recast the lumos charm. 

“I have wanted to give this to you for a few days now,” he said, presenting a small jewelry box with the Zabini crest on the top. 

Harry was very confused now, “What is it?” 

“Open it to see,” Blaise urged, nervous about how Harry might receive the gift, but he hoped the boy would like it. 

Harry gasped, “Blaise, this is really beautiful.” 

Inside the box was a gold pendant resting on a royal blue satin pillow. On the front was a carving of the bust of a woman. Harry could tell that she was meant to be very beautiful and that an unimaginable amount of time had been devoted to etching her likeness. The woman was draped in jewels and her eyes were glinting in the dim light, her ebony hair shining proudly. On the other side, there was an engraving that Harry couldn’t understand. 

“Are these hieroglyphics?” Harry asked as he ran his fingers over the inlaid symbols. 

Blaise nodded, “I was told that it says, ‘In darkness I shall forever guide you. In my shadow, you will find solace’,” the Slytherin explained, pulling the pendant out and letting it dangle from its chain. “It is a precious family heirloom,” he further elucidated, holding it up for Harry to see better in the light. “My father’s family is from Italy as you know, and our line there can be traced for many generations. My mother, on the other hand, is half Italian and half Egyptian. Her mother haled from Egypt. My mother gave this pendant necklace to me as a child to protect me from nightmares and monsters.”

Harry grinned and stifled a laugh, imagining a little boy with overflowing brown curls sprinting to his mother’s skirts because of monsters under the bed. 

Blaise smiled with him before he continued, “This is Amaunet, which means the hidden one, perfect for a Slytherin,” he smirked. 

Harry only nodded silently. “Among the primeval Egyptian Gods, her shadow is a symbol of protection. She also has other duties and an affinity with the Northern Wind, depending on whose lore you read, but everyone looks to her as a symbol of protection although she is considered a lesser goddess.” 

Harry looked down at the necklace, pulling it out of Blaise’s had, “I think she might take issue with that last statement,” he laughed. “She looks pretty mighty to me.” 

Harry didn’t know much about the gods or Blaise’s family for that matter considering he didn’t know that Blaise had an Egyptian heritage at all. Finally learning more about Blaise’s past and his heritage was fascinating to Harry, but he was confused. “Why are you giving me this? Won’t your mother-”

“Harry,” Blaise interrupted, pressing a silencing finger to Harry’s lips. “In a very short amount of time, you have become so very important to me, and my desire to protect you surprises even me at times. I do not know what is going to happen when you pass through the portal to retrieve your godfather, and the fact that I cannot travel with you tears me up inside. I do not know if this will protect you; I do not put much stock in the gods, but I never had another nightmare after I wore this. If it can protect you in even the slightest while you are out of my reach I want you to have it.” 

Harry met Blaise’s gaze and threw his arms around him, “I think you’re amazing,” he whispered, his emotions overflowing. He’d never known anyone to care for his well-being so much. 

“Me too, my Harry,” Blaise murmured against Harry’s skin. “So you will wear this?”

Harry pulled back nodding, “Of course, I don’t want you to worry.”

“When you are out of my sight, I will always worry. You are danger prone; surely you know that by now,” the Slytherin teased.

Harry blushed embarrassedly as Blaise fastened the necklace around him and it settled at his sternum, “Yes, I know.” 

After the necklace was settled in place, Blaise pressed a kiss to Harry’s forehead. “There is more, Harry,” Blaise said with unusual trepidation upon his face. Harry had never seen the Slytherin nervous before, so he was instantly worried. 

“What is it?” 

“Accepting this gift means more than just the protection I hope it affords you.”

Harry nodded slowly in confusion, “Alright, what else does it mean?” 

Blaise cleared his throat uncharacteristically and ran a hand through his hair, “With it I present my formal suit, a petition for courtship.” 

“What,” Harry asked, genuinely confused. 

“I would like to court you, Harry Potter.”

Harry swallowed and licked his lips, “You mean like to get married.” 

Blaise nodded slowly, his eyes never leaving Harry’s. This was the most important moment of his life and whether Harry said yes or no he didn’t want to miss a moment of it.

“I don’t know if I’m ready to get married, Blaise,” Harry said, completely stricken. He loved Blaise; he just come to terms with that, but he was just sixteen, and so was Blaise although his birthday was coming up soon. 

“I know,” Blaise hurried to interrupt before Harry got the wrong idea. “I adore you, Harry, but I admit that I am not ready to be bonded either, which is how wizards and witches are tied together permanently,” he clarified, “but I do know that I want to be with you, protect you, and make you happy forever. The courtship will give us time to work on our relationship and take things slowly while still showing others that we are committed to each other. We do not have to be bonded tomorrow…just-”

Harry silenced him with a searing kiss, “Yes, yes, I want to try this with you,” he answered with a kiss for every word. Then he jerked back with his hands on Blaise’s shoulders, his eyes open wide in distress. “Do I have to give you something too? I don’t really have anything valuable like this,” he gestured to the pendant, “but there might be something in my trust vault, or we could go out and buy you something new. I’m not really sure how this works. I’ve only just finalized the details for the contract for the Malfoys, as you know, so I haven’t been able to continue my studies on wizarding customs. Granted, I wasn’t planning on researching marital rites for a long t-”

“Harry,” Blaise laughed. “You don’t have to do anything. A courtship as I said is just like a -muggle engagement. You just have to be with me,” he grinned.

\---:::---

The next day they didn’t rouse with Draco’s calls, deciding to take the morning off from classes. Their professors wouldn’t be happy, but Harry didn’t want to get up. He was pleasantly sore and tired, aching in all the right places, and he wanted to bask. He’d never felt the bond so placid within him, and he really wanted to enjoy it; it felt as if tension from years of heavy labor finally released, and he could finally breathe easily.

Blaise smiled down at him as he lounged like a house cat; he didn’t have the heart to make Harry get up, so he grabbed the oil from the previous night and began to rub out the knotty muscles in Harry’s back, butt, and thighs. 

“So, Severus said,” Harry began, his voice dying on a groan as Blaise pressed in all of the right places. 

Blaise chuckled, “Hmm? What was that Harry?” 

Harry rolled his eyes and turned over. He worked to ignore how Blaise’s arms caged him in and he smiled seductively down at him and allowed his eyes to roam Harry’s still naked body. 

Harry popped up and nipped Blaise’s chest, “Stop distracting me and I’ll tell you,” Harry laughed. 

Blaise smiled fondly at him and rolled off of him, propping himself on one arm and fingering his first courting gift lying against Harry’s bare skin. His chest swelled to see Harry wearing it so easily, proudly. 

“Severus says that we’re ready to go and get Sirius now, and Bill is getting the blood tonight before the ritual, so we can go to get Sirius tonight,” Harry informed him. 

Blaise’s easy smile instantly slid from his face. He leaned over and kissed Harry’s shoulder without commenting. 

Harry sighed and turned to look at the ceiling, “I know you’re worried, but I really think it’ll be okay,” he smiled at the canopy, running a light finger over the pendant on his chest.

“I guess we should have gone to class today,” Blaise laughed, “because who knows how long this might take,” he tried for levity, but Harry could still hear the apprehension in his voice as well as the unspoken, ‘who knows how long you’ll be gone.’

“Come you big lug,” Harry said, kissing Blaise’s cheek, “let’s go get lunch and go to our afternoon classes.”

\---:::---

Draco arched an eyebrow as Blaise settled next him at lunch in the Great Hall.

“So you’ve finally decided to grace us mere mortals with your presence, have you,” he drawled. 

Blaise snagged a plate and loaded it with food. He had a persistent slight smile on his face, and he didn’t rise to Draco’s bait. 

The blond set his fork down and turned directly to Blaise, “Okay, what is it?”

“Hmm?” Blaise asked, glancing across the hall at the Gryffindor table where Harry had just settled between Ron and the Longbottom heir. It was like Harry could feel his eyes on his back because he turned and gave a quick little wave before being distracted by the redhead who appeared to be choking on an olive. 

Draco narrowed his eyes and followed his friend’s gaze, “I haven’t seen you this distracted since-”

He paused and looked between the Gryffindor table and Blaise multiple times. He grinned knowingly. 

“Do not even speak,” Blaise turned to him with a glare. “This is Harry’s and my thing, and you do not get to talk about it,” he snapped, nipping this in the bud immediately. “You do not get to embarrass him.”

Draco took in his friend’s glare and sighed, “Alright, alright, I can’t guarantee I won’t say anything, but I won’t intentionally embarrass him.” Blaise’s desire to protect the Gryffindor from any sort of discomfort or pain was admirable, but not a lot of fun for Draco who always enjoyed riling the golden boy. 

“Well, that aside,” Draco sniffed, “my father and mother will be joining us today,” he said, digging out a letter from his parents. 

Blaise nodded silently, “Harry has already told me that Professor Snape is ready to proceed today. It is Thursday though; I think it would be better to do it tomorrow, so we do not miss more classes.” 

Draco laughed out loud, drawing the attention of a few students sitting near them who were easily cowed by a skillfully placed scowl, “Please, you don’t have a leg to stand on there, my dear friend, considering your absence from classes this morning. You weren’t too worried about missing lessons then.”

Blaise sighed heavily but remained silent because he knew Draco was absolutely right; he just wanted any excuse to keep Harry with him for as long as possible. 

“Besides,” Draco sobered, “I spoke to Uncle Sev after defense today, and he seems to feel that time is running short for Black, so the sooner the better.” 

With a nod, Blaise looked back over to Harry who appeared to be bickering with the Granger girl…again. If time was running out for Harry’s godfather, then time was certainly of the essence because the Slytherin knew how losing Black for a second time would break Harry’s hear. If anything, he didn’t want that type of guilt lingering over Harry. The boy would feel as though he’d failed his godfather again, and it would eat him up inside.

\---:::---

“Harry, where were you this morning,” Hermione asked, squeezing between Seamus and Dean and into the tiny space in front of him. “You missed Care of Magical Creatures with Hagrid and Defense with Professor Snape. I hope you know there’s a detention awaiting you once Professor Snape catches up with you, and frankly I think he’s right to do it. You can’t skip classes just because you feel like it. After all of these years, I can see what so many people were saying about you. You can’t keep getting away with these things because you’re Professor Dumbledore’s favorite. You aren’t that spe-”

“Oh my God, will just shut your freaking gob,” Ron groaned. “You’re such a nag, and I swear if you start harassing Harry and spouting off all of that stuff Malfoy used to say I will-”

“What, Ron,” Hermione snapped. “You’ll do what? Last week you were just as angry with Harry as I am, so don’t think just because Harry’s decided to pick you back up from the curb he kicked you on that you can start mouthing off to me,” she hissed. 

Harry clenched his jaw at the hurt look that passed over Ron’s face, “Seriously, Hermione you really need to shut up because you don’t know anything. You think you know everything about everything, but you don’t. You don’t have all of the answers, and you don’t have the right to lecture me about missing classes. I’ll take that up with my professors when I have the chance, and you shouldn’t have anything to say about it,” he said through clenched teeth as calmly as possible. 

“Also, you need to apologize to Ron, and then you need to leave,” Harry demanded. “You’ve been controlling and out of line for too long, and frankly I can’t stand you like this. As you can’t seem to take a hint by my blatant avoidance, the way you are now I have desire to see you or speak to you. You used to be fun and adventurous and genuinely helpful, but at some point you’ve turned into a shrew of a governess. It’s not your job to raise us as you see fit, so apologize or don’t, but either way you need to get the hell away from me,” Harry snapped and glared. 

He had kept his voice as low as possible, but he was a Gryffindor at heart, so he couldn’t help the fire in his eyes or the harsh tenor of his tone. 

Hermione remained quiet for a second, “Harry you can’t just throw me away,” she laughed. 

Harry rolled his eyes, “I’m not throwing anyone away. _I_ understand that people aren’t objects to be tossed out or bossed around and positioned as I see fit. All I’m saying,” He glared hatefully at her, “is that I as a person have come to the realization that I don’t like you very much anymore, and I won’t allow you impose yourself upon me any longer. Now, that’s not throwing you away. In fact, it has little to do with you at all and everything to do with me. You can choose to follow me around if you like, but don’t think I’ll rise to the occasion anymore when you try to bait me,” he responded with a casual shrug. 

“I’m done having this same fight with you, so apologize for what you said to Ron and then kindly leave us alone.”

Hermione looked around for backup, but no one was stepping into this tangled mire to support her. She sat there for a really long time, almost the entirety of lunch, and no one addressed her or even gave the impression that they noticed her sitting pretty atop the bench. From the outsider’s perspective, this wasn’t the type of behavior you would see at the Gryffindor table, perhaps the Ravenclaw table or the Slytherin table, but this simmering disdain overlaid by quiet placidity was uncharacteristic of the Gryffindors.

As Dumbledore watched silently from his position at the center of the head table, he wasn’t too surprised. He’d noticed Harry changing and growing into a young man, and he’d also been on the receiving end of that lashing tongue recently. The Gryffindors as a whole were more rambunctious than the other houses, but they recognized strong leadership and followed it well. As Harry changed, it was unsurprising to see many of the others follow suit as well.

Having had quite enough, Hermione huffed and stood abruptly, drawing the attention of the entire table, despite Harry’s attempt to avoid the unnecessary spectacle, “You’re going to regret this Harry,” she hissed, her eyes scanning each of the boys before her. “You-”

“Just give it a rest, Hermione,” Neville said with a tired sigh, slumping over onto one elbow and leaning heavily on the table. “We’re tired of listening to your nagging and your harping. Harry’s not changing his mind, and I agree with him. You’re driving people around the bend with this holier-than-thou attitude you have this year.” 

Ron gaped open-mouthed at Neville as he continued. The boy was never confident speaking publicly or confronting others, but he looked so laidback and relaxed and almost _bored_ as he cut Hermione down to size. The redhead cocked his head at Neville, seeing him in a completely different light.

“Why don’t you just leave and tend to your Flitterbloom plant down in the greenhouses because they’re wilting and your work leaves much to be desired,” Neville suggested mildly with an arched eyebrow. “The bush looks less like Devil’s Snare and more like tangled dying seaweed.” 

“How dare-”

“Aw Mr. Potter, I see you have decided to grace the castle with your presence,” a deep tenor drawled behind Harry’s head. 

The Gryffindor grinned before turning around to face his defense professor, “Hello Professor, I am sorry about this morning. I wasn’t feeling very well, so I decided to lie in. I’m feeling much better now though.” 

Severus eyed the boy critically before sighing and pinching his nose in consternation, “Detention tonight Potter to make up your missed practical, and then I’ll have you clean out two of my caldrons for not going to see Madame Pomfrey if you were feeling ill.” 

“But you’re not even teaching potions anymore,” Harry smiled, no longer intimidated by Snape’s scowl and stony face. 

Snape snorted sardonically and flicked his eyes at Slughorn, sneering in disdain, “Be that as it may, I am the _only_ true potion’s master in this castle, and therefore I still brew majority of the potions for the castle’s infirmary among other things. I may no longer desire to watch over you dunderheads and your diabolical concoctions, but I am a potion’s master at heart. Now, I expect you promptly after your final class ends,” he finished with a turn and flick of his billowing robes. 

“I really wish I knew how he did that,” Harry remarked as he watched Severus waltz out of the Great Hall. 

“Harry,” Ron hedged, “that was…that was…”

“That was what,” Harry asked in confusion.

Neville grinned and sat up straight, “What Ron is trying to say is that was almost cordial, no… more than that really. It was almost friendly…between you and Snape, I mean.” 

“Oh that,” Harry waved, “I just think after all of the extra time I spend in detention with him, I’m finally starting to grow on him after six long years.” 

“Blimey,” Ron responded.

Harry laughed easily and finished the last of his lunch peacefully with his friends as Hermione stormed off in a tiff, presumably to prune her Flitterbloom bush.

\---:::---

Fred stepped aside and allowed Bill and the younger Lestrange brother into his flat that he shared with his twin.

When everyone was finally settled with tea and Lestrange was no longer hiding beneath the disillusionment charm, Bill waited for the twins to be silent and as focused as the twins are ever wont to be when they weren’t trying to blow something up, “We need to acquire the blood today,” he said, moving straight to the point, “so that we can open the portal tonight. There’s no time to lose. Do you two have what I asked for?”

Fred nodded and stood up to cross the room, “Here’s the hair you asked for,” Fred said upon his return, “it should get you past the goblins easily enough if they're distracted, but if you have to pass through any blood wards or give any personal information about him or her then you’re on your own. We don’t know who it was. All we know is that it’s dead now, so at least you don’t have to worry about bumping into it anywhere.” 

“Well that’s a relief,” Bill grumbled. “I wish you would have noted the sex though. Females are not allowed to work in any of the Gringotts branches. Yes, they are a little behind the times,” Bill smirked. 

Rabastan sat up, “Now, explain to me why exactly we need this blood. We are meant to rescue Potter’s godfather, Sirius Black. I understand that much and would be pleased to see him again myself after all of this time, but the rest was not explained clearly.”

“You knew Sirius?” George interrupted before Bill could begin to explain. 

The Slytherin turned to look at the redheaded twin, “Of course, there weren’t many families my brother and I were allowed to associate with as children, but the Blacks were close friends of ours. Sirius, Regulus, Rodolphus, and myself were very close for a time. Rodolphus and I are really close in age, just two years apart, and from what I have heard were much like you two, inseparable and right terrors. That all changed once we entered Hogwarts though. Sirius was sorted in Gryffindor two years ahead of Regulus and I, and Rodolphus went to Slytherin as expected. We were told not to associate with Sirius anymore, and I obeyed my father’s wishes as was expected of me,” he didn’t elaborate further, but they all got the feeling that the older man regretted his staunch obedience. “Then, Rodolphus was engaged to Bella, and everything went downhill from there, and I had little to no control over anything or at least that’s how it felt.” 

“Things were really messed up back then,” Fred commented with a sympathetic nod. 

“You have no idea,” Rabastan drawled, “but, back to my original question. What is the importance of this blood we need to procure, and what exactly do you need me to do?”

Bill acquiesced and gave them the very abbreviated version, “Basically, the Rasozm portal is a portal named after the goblin Rasozm Stoneraider who created it along with the infamous thief Robin Hood. Along with his side-kick Rasozm, they created a portal that could be used to enter and exit even the most closely guarded Goblin vault.” 

The twins whistled, thinking of the possibilities of such a portal. 

“Harry is planning to use this ritual, with our help, to create a portal using his two-way mirror that will reach Sirius beyond the veil. 

“Hmm, interesting,” the twins said together. “That sounds like fun. Who is Harry taking with him? Surely, he isn’t going alone.” 

Bill shook his head, “I do believe Severus is accompanying him, but I can’t say for sure. The important thing now is that we get the blood, so we can open the portal today. Severus has told me that Sirius is fading fast in there, so we can’t fail today.” 

Fred and George nodded seriously. They’d looked up to the dog animagus as soon they’d learned that he was one of the Marauders. Beyond that idolization, they’d come to really respect and like Sirius Black. 

“Did you bring enough polyjuice for us?” George asked. 

“Yes,” Bill said. 

“Great,” Fred exclaimed, snapping it up as soon as Bill presented it. “We can’t go looking like this. It would ruin the show.” 

Bill rolled his eyes at them for the tenth time in as many minutes.

“And more than that,” George confessed, “we hold accounts with the goblins too, and it would be awful if we got on their bad side to be sure.” 

Bill held a vial out the Slytherin in the room as well, “Here, I imagine you’d like to disguise yourself as well?” 

Rabastan nodded but didn’t take the vial, “I’ll be fine like this,” he said, standing up and slowly transforming and shrinking…and shrinking. Soon, where his feet once were, a black scorpion about the size of Bill’s hand scrambled across the floor and up Bill’s pant leg to settle in his robe’s inner pocket. 

Bill gulped at the disturbing sensation of that many tiny legs on his body, “Okay, so we’re ready to go then,” he said as he added the hair to Snape’s potion and knocked it back with a grimace.

\---:::---

As inconspicuously as possible, three figures entered the front of the Gringotts bank. Two were hunched over in black robes and cowls, and the third was dressed similarly but was of a very small stature.

“You know what to do,” the smaller hissed before slinking off and discarding the robe. He would blend in well enough without it. 

The other two nodded before they entered a line for withdrawals. They waited silently for their turn before they approached and removed the cowls. Standing before the goblin teller were two witches, not the refined stately ladies of the English nobility or the common everyday witch you see shopping through the alley. No, these were your stereotypical muggle version witches. They had warts and hairy moles scattered across their skin, thinning gray hair, dust, dirt, and grime embedded in the wrinkles of their faces and hands, and a fetid, decaying odor wafted from their bodies. However, this scent was mild and heavenly compared to the foul, putrid stench that emerged from their mouths as the twin witches began to speak in unison. 

“We have a request,” they rasped. 

The goblin didn’t look up from his ledger as he extended his hand, “Key?”

“We don’t have a key,” Fred gasped in his witch’s voice. 

“Nor do we need one,” George continued seamlessly. 

The goblin finally looked up and sneered in disgust, “Now there, you would be mistaken. Everyone must present a key to make a withdrawal from this bank.” 

The witches cleared their throats, “We do not wish to make a withdrawal, do we sister?” George asked, turning to his _sister_ and trying not to laugh. 

“No we don’t you presumptuous old pig,” Fred said to the goblin with a black-toothed smiled. “We simply desire that you move this hulking building, so that we may excavate a few things from below it.” 

“Excuse me,” the goblin balked. He’d never heard such a thing. 

“You heard us you bumbling, terrible excuse for a customer service representative,” George sneered. 

“Now see here,” the goblin yelled across the large bank foyer, surprising the twins because they weren’t sure that goblins could even raise their voices beyond an intimidating hiss. “You two must leave now because I will not be insult-”

“No!” Fred bellowed, “You see here. We will have you move this confounded building or we will unleash the Mysterious Nexi of Negative Harmony down upon your heads!” 

George was nodding along with Fred’s speech, caught up in his rhythm, until that last bit. He cocked his head and whispered quietly, “Nexi of Negative Harmony? Are you kidding me?” 

Fred shrugged a little and hissed back, “He put me on the spot. What did you expect?”

“Not for you to threaten them with mysterious nexies,” he retorted, barely restraining a laugh. “What the hell is a nexi?”

“Multiple nexuses? I don’t know. Why are you asking me?”

George nearly groaned, “Because you brought it up!”

“A what,” the goblin shrieked, imagining the horrors that could engulf his precious bank. “I will not tolerate idle threats against this noble establishment,” he roared from his pedestal behind the counter. “Gringotts has been here for countless years; there is nothing beneath it that could be of any use to you or anyone else aside from a goblin. Now what is it that you really want?” 

George grinned evilly, “Are you sure that’s the question you really want to ask?” 

The goblin sneered but easily took the bait, “What, may I ask, should I be asking instead. And, this had better be good before I summon our guards to enforce my demand that you vacate the premises?”

“You might want to know what exactly would happen to you and your precious bank if we release our Mysterious Nexi of Negative Harmony,” Fred smiled mockingly, digging into his robes to produce a fist sized orb of swirling mist and sparking lights. It looked like an encapsulated thunderstorm. 

The goblin and bystanders eyed the orb critically in some cases, warily in others, and disdainfully in the goblins’ cases. 

“What, pray tell does that nexi do?” he hissed. 

Fred replaced the orb in his robes quickly before the goblin could see through the illusion, “I am glad you asked; Sister, why don’t you tell the Goblin what he’s won!” He said with a flourish, spinning around with his arms thrown above his head gleefully. He really did appear to be mad. 

George threw him a silent glare because this was Fred’s damn Mysterious Nexi of Negative Harmony damn it, and he should explain the effects of it. Turning back to the goblin with a false grin, playing along, George began in booming theatrical voice, “Well, dear sir, for participating you will receive an unstoppable swirling vortex of doom, but don’t get down in the dumps just yet. Because our Mysterious Nexi of Negative Harmony is vast and we are so very generous, each of you will receive a consolation prize of tormenting, voracious, vicious wizard and goblin alike flesh consuming monsters!” 

Not missing a beat, Fred danced forward into the open room, so that everyone inside could see him. 

“Shall we name a few?” Fred asked gleefully, throwing his robes open and whipping out the figurines they’d crafted just for this purpose. It was great fun making them, but actually putting them to use and watching the expressions on the goblins’ and patrons’ faces was indescribably entertaining. 

“First we have, for contestant number two, the Menacing Snail of the Cosmos.” Fred animated the snail and it grew to be about fifteen feet high, snarling with jagged teeth and acidic saliva. 

There were horrified gasps but mostly shocked laughs, “Don’t worry, he’ll get there…eventually,” and the snail took off towards the nearest goblin, sliming his way across the marble floor at well…a snail’s pace. 

“Next up, for contestant number three,” George began pointing his wand at the second figure, “We have the Incontinent Famine Parrot!” The bird took off into the air, spraying what everyone believed to be urine but was actually lemonade all over the patrons in the bank, everyone save Fred and George who were impervious to parrot secretions. 

“Yes, yes, he is disgusting,” George sighed with a shake of his head and his hands on his hips, “and embarrassing,” the bird squawked in disagreement, “but he gets the job done. So,” he deadpanned with no emotion or inflection and no real energy or care at all, “a plague on your people, etc., etc., yada, yada. Dear sister, let us move on. We really must get them to move this building.” 

“Of course,” Fred nodded, “for the rest of you we have: the Manic Depressive Moon Ferret, the Necrotic Quail, the Devil of the Sock Drawer, and last but certainly my favorite the All-devouring Jazz Imp of the Perverse!”

“Sister,” George admonished, “I thought we agreed not to play favorites with the children?”

“Aw come on,” Fred whined, “how can you not love his pervy little face,” Fred cooed, pinching and tugging the imp’s cheeks as it drooled and groaned thoughtlessly before him with limp waving jazz hands. 

The patrons were screaming at the teasing of the monsters and trying to escape the bank as quickly as possible while the goblins stood dripping and livid, hissing like drenched pussycats. 

Fred soon released his hold on the imp to watch it scurry further into the building to join its _terrorizing_ brothers and sisters. 

“If you think they’re a terror now,” just wait until we release the MYSTERIOUS NEXI OF NEGATIVE HARMONY!” the brothers cackled together, racing around the room.

After watching his brothers perform like buffoons, Bill snapped his mouth shut and smothered his astonishment and mirth. He had a job to do and a time limit before the polyjucie potion wore off, and it probably wouldn’t be long before the goblins decided they were fed up with the show. He moved stealthily behind the counters where no wizard had ever tread before and snuck behind the tellers who paid little attention to the small goblin slinking behind them. They were more focused on the perceived threat of his little brothers. 

“Ow, damn it! Rabastan if you sting me again, I swear I will squash you beneath my boot,” Bill hissed through his warbling goblin throat. 

Rabastan stung him again on the neck, “I swear to God, if you’re poisonous,” he groaned and grabbed the scorpion, “Now, do your job. Beyond this point, there will be a number of wards and traps, and I should be able to easily disarm them, but I might inadvertently trip one before I can bypass them, so I need you to identify them.” 

Closing the door behind them, Bill scanned the empty corridor and placed the black scorpion on the ground, “You can transform here.” 

Rabastan returned to his natural form and stretched his limbs with a silent groan, “About twenty feet ahead I can see what looks to be a trap. It’s concentrated on the floor, so it might be weight sensitive or perhaps a pit filled with shiny spikes,” he shrugged carelessly. 

Bill nodded and drew his wand, “Thanks,” he mumbled concentrating on disarming the trap, unraveling the tendrils of magic. As he worked, Rabastan grumbled. 

“Once again, I am regretting my part in this. I should be out there, tormenting the goblins, not slinking around in dark, hidden corridors,” he muttered to himself.

Bill looked at him like he’d lost his mind, “You were sorted into Slytherin weren’t you?” 

Rabastan snorted, “It was a near thing,” he confessed. “Besides, just because I was sorted into Slytherin, doesn’t mean I don’t know how to have a little fun at another’s expense. You Gryffindor’s don’t have a patent on pranks believe it or not.” 

“Riiight,” Bill said, “Well come on. If we hurry, maybe we can catch the end of the show. The chamber shouldn’t be much further ahead. 

Bill was correct. They moved along in relative silence – aside from Rabastan’s whispered warnings and Bills lowly cast spells – until they reached a large anti chamber. Near the back was a huge floating orb that looked to contain the blood they needed for the portal. 

“Finally,” Rabastan groaned to himself. 

“Do you see anything,” Bill asked. 

Rabastan dropped his occlumency shields for the final time, “No, but we should be cautious nonetheless.”

Bill nodded. There were a lot of things that could go wrong with this simple plan, and they certainly didn’t need to take any unnecessary risks. Regardless, they needed to hurry because he could feel the potion running its course, and if caught, there was no excuse he could provide for being in this part of the building. This was a wizard free, goblin only zone. 

They noted the large ornate desk to the left of the blood, but other than a few scattered chairs and wall sconces with torches, some lit and some unlit, the room was bare. They took a single step forward, and were completely take by surprised when, from the walls on each side of them, sticky webs shot out at them at great speed, ensnaring them and holding them suspended from the ground. 

“Well, this disgusting,” Rabastan drawled from Bill’s side. 

Bill merely rolled his eyes, “I thought you said there was nothing in here.” 

Rabastan would have shrugged casually if he could have, “There wasn’t at first.”

\---:::---

Rabastan had been prepared to wait for a long time for someone to show up, but the goblins arrived fairly quickly – about half an hour later – to cut them down, but they were still wrapped up tightly like two stuffed dumplings.

“Well, well, well, what do we have here? Gentlemen, it appears you have been caught where you do not belong, ensnared in our spider’s web,” the goblin’s voice cackled. “Nevertheless, you should congratulate yourselves. No other has ever made it quite this far before,” he applauded. 

Rabastan rolled his eyes, “How can you even fit an acromantula inside of this place to have it spin a web for you?” 

The goblin shrugged, “You would be surprised at the lengths we go to in order to protect our treasures.”

He snorted, “Hmpf, you mean other people’s treasure.” 

The goblin sneered before shrugging again, “You will find that to a goblin, once it is in our possession, the treasure or gold, is as much ours as it yours, and nothing taken from this bank ever truly ceases to gain profit for us…in one way or another.” 

Rabastan remained silent; there was little point in arguing with a goblin. 

Bill startled when a side door to the large antechamber burst open and his brothers were dragged in and thrust ignobly into the dust on the cobblestones.

“Now that the entire party has arrived,” the goblin stepped forward into the light and took a seat behind the desk with much unnecessary fanfare, “I am called Mazn Dreadthief, and I would like to address what brings you here today.” 

He looked them each over in turn, “Rabastan Lestrange, Frederick Weasley, George Weasley, and,” he paused at Bill’s disguised appearance before standing once again and slashing a claw across Bill’s face. Presenting a piece of parchment the wizards hadn’t previously noticed, the goblin smeared it across Bill’s face and took a step backwards, grinning evilly at the results. “Bill Weasley,” he arched a patronizing eyebrow, “why don’t we address your presence here and what it is you came for, hmm?” 

This goblin was very repetitive; clearly he loved to hear himself speak.

Dreadthief turned to sit again and gestured to the red liquid floating and undulating in the suspended glass orb near the back of the room. 

One minute later, the goblin nodded and stroked his knobby chin, “This could work out in everyone’s favor,” he mumbled to himself. Standing abruptly, this was the most animated goblin any of the wizards had ever seen. 

“You are acquainted with Mr. Harry Potter, yes?”

He grinned at Bill subsequent glare. “We will summon your _friends_ ,” he sneered at the word. Goblins certainly weren’t moved by personal relationships and _feelings_ as wizards were, “to make a deal, but first, I want to know what you need Rasozm Stoneraider’s blood for.” 

After listening to Bill’s concise explanation, Dreadthief snapped his fingers at one of his attendants, “Sek Giantdrool, draft a letter to Severus Snape, summoning him and their entire party. Request their presence at the bank immediately, and be sure to impress upon them the importance of a prompt arrival. Enclose a portkey for expedience and inform the front tellers of their summons and to have them all sent back here to me as soon as they arrive,” he ordered before stalking out of the room.

\---:::---

Two hours later the goblin reentered the chamber that held the imprisoned, thieving wizards. “It will not be long now,” he assured them with a cruel smirk. “I have been informed that your friends have arrived to retrieve you,” he chortled, settling in the seat behind his desk and gesturing for the prisoners to be moved aside.

“Move them to the receiving room; I will speak with to them there,” he ordered before waddling out of the room. 

Once all of the wizards were present, standing before his desk as he did not offer them chairs to sit in, the goblin surveyed them each quickly: Harry Potter, Severus Snape, the Zabini heir, Lord Malfoy, Lady Malfoy, and the Malfoy heir. Mazn hadn’t expected to draw such a crowd when he’d sent the summons. He’d expected only the surly potions master and Potter as those were the only people Weasley had mentioned by name. 

This was wonderful! Mazn Dreadthief grinned evilly, as he stood and retrieved a fire poker brought in by one of his attendants, “No one steals from Gringotts and gets away with it, and perpetrators are usually slain,” he said, spitting toward the bound men at his feet. Rabastan was still nearly taller than him on his knees, but that mattered little to the goblin. It wasn’t every day that he had a group of powerful – he glanced at Rabastan and Bill Weasley – and world renowned wizards nearly prostrate before him. 

Draco stood between his godfather and father and sneered at the disgusting vermin standing over Bill with a hot poker to his back. The redhead was already bleeding, and if the insane creature didn’t take a step back, Draco couldn’t be held accountable for his actions. He withheld a growl by the skin of his teeth when a goblin kicked at Bill’s feet. 

For the redhead’s part, Bill eyed the goblins warily but also with some amusement. He liked to see Draco riled up, and it was a little touching to see the blonde so angry on his behalf.

Severus pinched his nose and took a step towards the bound men on the floor, “Just how were you captured?” His gazed lingered on the veteran Slytherin; he expected better from Rabastan. 

The man in question merely shrugged as best he could within his restraints, “Not my plan,” he drawled. 

“So because you didn’t come up with the plan, you couldn’t be bothered to point out its flaws,” Snape asked with an arched eyebrow. 

Rabastan grinned, “It seemed like more fun this way.” 

Before Severus could respond with the vitriol ready to come spewing forth from his mouth at the ridiculous Gyrffindor-ish, more specifically Marauder-esque, behavior, Harry stepped forward and interrupted him. 

“What can we do to have them released to us,” he questioned. 

The Goblin grinned a disgusting grin, a disturbing display of sharp, yellow and brown teeth, “Aw Mister Potter, what a pleasure it is to see you. I am Mazn Dreadthief; I don’t believe we’ve had the pleasure of speaking before this.” 

Blaise squinted at the obviously fake obsequious behavior.

“Cut the crap, Dreadthief,” Blaise interjected, stepping up beside Harry. “You are not going to kill them, or you would have done so already without sending for us. We are kind of on a tight schedule here.”

Lucius nodded in agreement, ready to put his diplomatic skills to work, “What is it that you want in return for these men and the object they came to procure,” he asked, not forgetting about the blood they needed to power the portal’s ritual. 

The Goblin narrowed his eyes at the Malfoy patriarch and grimaced, “What makes you think we desire anything more than a witness to their execution?”

Harry moved towards his wand subtly, and Draco’s back stiffened as he cleared his face of all expressions. It looked like this may become more violent than they’d originally thought.

Lucius merely lifted a gloved hand and waved it around the room, “Although you have been less than hospitable, you have summoned us to one of your largest receiving rooms which tells me that you have brought us here to negotiate, that we have something you want or something you believe we can retrieve for you in exchange for the lives of these four men. Therefore, I suggest you begin negotiating goblin before we lose our patience.” 

The goblin grit his teeth, but he was sent forth to do a job, and do it he must, regardless of how much he wanted to continued playing with the humans. “You are correct as always, Mr. Malfoy. While theft from the bank is punishable by death under normal circumstances, we are known to make exceptions at our discretion. We have not forgotten that each of you have a sizable sum of money and valuable heirlooms and properties entrusted to us that you may remove from our care if we _displease_ you,” he hissed in aggravation. “Furthermore, Bill Weasley is a far more important asset to us than that which he strove to pilfer, so we are disinclined to terminate him. Besides,” he added flippantly, or as flippant as a Goblin can possibly be, “he’s under magical contract with the bank which affords him certain liberties.”

Draco’s jaw dropped momentarily before a stern glance from his father made him close it, “Stealing from the bank is part of those liberties afforded to him a Gringotts employee?” he asked once he’d regained control of his tongue.

Dreadthief sneered, “Certain things, yes,” he hedged. “The curse breakers bring us much more wealth than you _wizards_ can imagine, much more than interest from housing your gold although we desire that too. So in return, we pay them a large year-end salary that could rival even your yearly income Mr. Malfoy,” he felt inclined to add smugly. “In addition to that, we allow them to keep certain trinkets from their expeditions as they desire,” he commented, flicking Bill’s earring significantly. 

This piqued Lucius’ interest. He knew for a fact that the interest combined with the stored gold in the various Gringotts branches scattered across the globe added to the investments made by the bank netted more than almost every known monarch, dynasty, and national income – wizarding and muggle – in the last five hundred years. Just what the hell were the curse breakers finding for the Goblins? There wasn’t that much wealth in the world and Lucius of all people would know. Of course, he had to ask. 

“That is of little importance to you,” the goblin deflected Lucius, “we will move to the negotiations now.” 

After two minutes of silence from the goblin, Harry spoke up impatiently, “What do you want?” 

“Mr. Potter, as you no doubt already know, many in the magical world – magical creatures included – have heard rumors of your exploits at the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. We may be willing to release these men to you,” he gestured offhandedly to the Weasleys and Lestrange, “if you give us part of the basilisk you destroyed in your second year.”

Harry gaped, “You want part of the snake?” 

Dreadthief nodded solemnly. “As its vanquisher, magically, it belongs to you. It is still in your possession is it not?” He would have known had any parts of the beast been sold on any market as the goblins had been searching for basilisk venom for a long time. 

Harry scratched the back of his neck, “Well, not really.” 

Severus spoke up at this point, “The beast was given to me by Mr. Potter, so it belongs to me now,” he said. Mere hours ago as they prepared for the ritual in the Chamber of Secrets, Harry had gifted the basilisk to Severus when they noted how preserved it was. Severus had never appreciated dunderheaded, glasses-wearing boy wonders more than he had at that moment. He was still awed by the beast and Harry’s gift just thinking about it. In any case, he had his own plans for Slytherin’s monster, and he didn’t want to give it away to this slimy bastard. 

The goblin turned to Severus. He was surprised to hear such, but considering that Snape was a world renown potions master he should have expected him to desire the basilisk as well. “We don’t want or need the entire thing, just two vials worth of venom, and we’ll let them go and give you the blood.” 

Harry looked over at him imploringly. “Do not look at me like that, Harry,” he sighed heavily, “you know very well that I will give it to him.” 

Snape sneered at the goblin’s gleeful reaction and tried to ignore Harry’s brilliant smile at his agreement. He didn’t want everyone to know he was growing soft…in regards to Potter at least.

Lucius’ knowing smirk told him that he wasn’t fooling anyone. Severus pulled the same expression of fond exasperation when dealing with Draco.

“So may we have what we came for?” Severus drawled, tired of this entire affair. He’d spoken with Sirius just hours before this, and he knew that time was running thin. 

“But of course,” Dreadthief withdrew a small letter opener and conjured a vial. With a quick slash he cut open the palm of his hand and made a fist, squeezing out the purple blood until it filled the small vial. “I believe this will be enough. It should sustain the portal for a number of hours, but ten will be the maximum I believe,” he said, capping the vial and nodding. 

“This is the source of the blood?” Bill asked in confusion. “I was told that it was Stoneraider’s blood.” 

The goblin grinned evilly, “A small, misleading falsehood on our part. The secrecy and protection of the portal’s power is very important to us, so we told that tall tale for situations such as these. If someone less desirable than yourself learned of and sought the blood of Stoneraider for themselves, they would have been fooled by the floating goat’s blood in there,” he jerked a thumb over his shoulder, “as you were and executed immediately without ever achieving their goal.”

“So the blood of any goblin would have worked,” Fred asked, thinking of the dead goblin they’d stolen the hair from. 

Dreadthief shook his head, “Of course not,” he scoffed. “I am a descent of Stoneraider, and only the blood of his progeny can sustain the portal, so it was not a complete lie. Now, you have a week to give us what we desire, or we will seek our own compensation,” the goblin said dangerously, dismissing them with a wave.

\---:::---

“Well that was both easier and more complicated than I thought it would be,” Harry commented as they all exited the bank and stepped into the sunlight.

“These things usually are,” Lucius commented from his side. “Negotiations can be fairly simple, especially when everyone knows what they want. And, goblins always know _exactly_ what they want.” 

“I must say that that goblin was certainly strange though,” Narcissa commented. 

Harry nodded. “That’s for sure. In the beginning there I wasn’t sure if we were going to have curse him or not.” 

“Alright,” Severus interrupted the laughter and comments about psycho goblins. “We need to return to the castle to open the portal. As soon as we return we will begin; Bill will lead the ritual as he’s most familiar with it.”

Harry nodded, “How are getting back though? We weren’t given portkeys to return to the castle.”

“We will have to side along apparate,” Narcissa supplied, hooking an arm around her husband’s elbow. “It’s a long trip though, so we will have to make at least two stops along the way.” 

Lucius stuck out his other arm for Draco, but wasn’t too surprised to find him sticking close to the eldest redhead. _Why did it have to be a Weasley?_ he mentally groaned, bemoaning his fate. 

Narcissa followed his gaze and laughed to herself. It served Lucius right; aside from the Dark Lord he’d had little stress in his life, and it was time for Draco to bedevil his father a little. 

“I will take Potter and Zabini,” Severus offered and grabbed each of their shoulders and disappeared with a violent crack. Bill and Draco popped away next, followed closely by Lucius and his wife, leaving Rabastan, Fred, and George to make their own way back to the castle.

\---:::---

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A Flitterbloom plant is a plant that looks like Devil’s Snare, but it’s not vicious and dangerous in case anyone was wondering. I found it in the HPLexicon, and all of the funny crazy names in this chapter are compliments of the Seven Sanctum name generator. It’s the same site I use for my goblin names. They have names for everything: strange magical realms, magical tech. goblin names, vampire names, monster names, humorous monster names, attack names, and humorous attack names ect. It’s awesome and I love it!


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the last chapter in my buffer, so the next chapter will be in two weeks, and I will post it at the same time I post on the other site. 
> 
> A/N: He’s chapter 15 for you guys. I hope you all like it. I wanted to ask. How do you think the story is flowing? How do you think the relationships and characterizations are panning out? I want to at some point read the entire thing through, but I’ve yet to find the time, and so I just want to make sure that everything is going well. So, let me know what you guys think. :) Also, we get our first glimpse of the Dark Lord in this chapter, and warning… He’s kind of a sick fuck, but we love him that way, right? I didn’t put anything too squicky or triggery in, but I thought I would warn you guys anyway just to be safe. Also, Voldemort is still his normal old pasty, gray, lipless self. I love handsome Tom Riddle as much as the next person, but since this isn’t Tom/Harry he’s still the ugly old insane fart we all love to hate. That’s all. Enjoy and read and review!

**Chapter 15**

Voldemort sat back in his chair as Nagini slithered into the dark room. He’d just concluded a trip to the continent, hoping to _persuade_ the French covens in Marseille – well hidden from the French ministry in Paris – to join his dark forces. The mission was largely unsuccessful, but he had returned with a few like-minded minions who would be joining him in England in a few short weeks.

Currently he was on the second leg of the trip home, sitting somewhere in a remote town just a skip away from Rouen in Northern France. He was waiting impatiently for Wormtail to return with the illegal portkey he’d had commissioned, and if the little rat didn’t return within the next two minutes he’d find himself missing more than just a hand. 

The Dark Lord was looking forward to his return to London, so he could deal with his more capable, better smelling followers. Because Wormtail, that imbecilic, whimpering, disgusting excuse for a wizard was becoming more useless each day, and Voldemort was seriously considering feeding him to his beloved familiar. 

“Would you like that Nagini,” he hissed, laughingly. 

The snake turned to acknowledge him as his voice sounded, but as he hadn’t deigned to speak in her language she only gave him a cursory glance before settling her head back on her coils at his feet. 

Voldemort snorted and ran his spindly gray fingers over her smooth scales, “No, no it is better I dispose of the nasty creature by myself as he would surely give you indigestion my sweet.” 

The door to the small cottage they had commandeered for the last couple of nights burst open, allowing the evening light to spill forth into the room. “Milord,” Wormtail gasped as he scampered forth and collapsed in front of his lord in a heap that was supposed to be a respectful bow but only managed to resemble a commoner’s collapse from overexertion.

“Get off of me you oaf,” Voldemort kicked him beneath the chin and away from his booted feet. “I cannot seem to remember, so do enlighten me Peter. Were you always this revolting?”

“No…yes…milord?” Peter chanced a confused glance up at his lord. 

“Merlin give me strength,” the Dark Lord groaned. “Tell me you were able to acquire the portkey before I am forced to destroy you,” Voldemort hissed, drawing his wand with a glare. 

The Dark Lord knew that he was unstable at the best of times, and as such he understood that his patience and tolerance for what he considered utter filth, like the cowering mess of a man before him, was pitifully low. He also understood that in his youth he had much more control over his moods, but he was disinclined to care at all. And, as such, he wasn’t surprised at all by the overwhelming surge of hatred, anger, and repugnance he felt overcome him as he stared down at his minion. 

“I-I…I ha-”

“Crucio!” Voldemort cursed him, leveling his wand at the man’s head. He leaned forward and pressed his wand directly against Peter’s skin on his forehead. Blood oozed from the connection point, and the rat’s screams increased tenfold. Voldemort’s head lolled backwards on his shoulders, and he smiled a wicked sick little smile. His screams, anyone’s screams, were absolutely delectable. 

However, screams of excruciating pain were positively orgasmic. He allowed his gray tongue to slip out of his mouth and lick over his thin, practically nonexistent, lips. Now, I remember why I keep this sniveling thing around, he thought to himself as his cock began to twitch and fill beneath his robes. 

Many thought him unimaginative – though they would never say so out loud – because the cruciatus curse was his spell of choice, and outside of battles he rarely deviated from it, but that wasn’t it. This spell was the longest lasting pain inducing spell, he had ever come across, and when handled correctly it hardly did any real damage, so he didn’t have to waste time disposing of damaged bodies and acquiring new followers. 

Wormtail’s screams reached a fevered pitch, and the Dark Lord knew that he’d only have a little longer with the rat before he passed out or became more useless than he already was. Voldemort sat back in his chair once more. Severing contact diminished the screams he so loved, but it gave him more time with his _precious_ Peter. 

His free hand slipped between the folds of his robes, and he palmed his erection, humping his hips up into his hand. “Yessss,” he hissed and closed his eyes. He needed to hurry home and have one of the new recruits, eager to prove themselves, go snatch him a muggle to work over. These last few months with the vampires had been much too stressful, and the sadist needed more release than his thin hand and the hoarse shrieks of the disgusting rat could provide. 

He pressed down harder and humped his hips harder, coming with a silent gasp. In the throes of ecstasy, he’d canceled the spell, luckily for Wormtail because he’d passed out and any longer than that and he’d be as useful as a head of lettuce. 

_“Be prepared,”_ he hissed in parstletongue to Nagini, _“we will leave this place for home once the rat awakens. Go hunt if you must.”_

 _“Yes milord,”_ she hissed in return before slithering out of the room to find one of the children her lord had killed for her when they arrived. He was such a good lord, always taking such good care of her. 

As he waited for Peter to awaken and Nagini to return, Voldemort became introspective as he was wont to do when he wasn’t furthering his plot for death and destruction. Despite what anyone might think, Voldemort didn’t hate mudbloods or half-bloods. He in fact was a half-blood, so who was he to judge. He did hate muggles with a passion though, and he enjoyed killing the last of his muggle family. His mother’s family – although they were wizards – he destroyed on principle because they were disgusting and vile, and he despised them. 

What he needed, what he craved more than food, was anarchy, chaos, and pain…so, so much pain, and he scarcely cared who or where it came from. The purebloods just had an easy string to pluck with their hatred of all things muggle, and they were all extremely wealthy which was necessary to indulge his peculiar predilections and favorite depraved pastimes. 

“No one understands me mother,” Voldemort mused out loud. With a cackling laugh he flicked his wand and vanished the cooling mess beneath his robes. “I doubt even you would understand me…what with your silly bid for love and ridiculous love potions. What a daft woman you were. If you hadn’t have already died, I am sure I would have disposed of you myself.” 

He sighed. It was certainly time to return home to the Isles. He’d had little word of the happenings in Britain, and he needed to check on things. Lucius had been surprisingly quiet with short, terse correspondences, and he’d said nothing of the task given to his son. Given that the Malfoys were treading on thin ice he’d expected much groveling and simpering in the letters and frequent word on young Draco’s progress. 

“Yes,” he hissed with malevolent eyes, “it is high time I returned home.”

\---:::---

Lucius stopped short as he followed his son, Potter, and Zabini down Hogwarts’ stone corridor. They were apparently heading towards Slytherin’s fabled Chamber of Secrets. The Malfoy patriarch had given in to some excitement, but he’d restrained much of it lest he be disappointed. Moreover, it was unbecoming of a Malfoy to be overcome by his emotions.

To say the least when they entered a girl’s lavatory he was suitably shocked and more than disappointed. 

“Surely, this cannot be our ultimate destination,” Narcissa snorted in disdain as she dispelled the disillusionment spell when the door had been secured behind them.

Each of the adults, aside from Bill and Severus, nodded in agreement with her. However, the students were more relaxed. Blaise and Draco had never been inside of the chamber, but Harry had told them about the entrance weeks ago, and Bill and Severus had spent many hours with Harry in the days prior, cleaning away the debris from Harry’s escapades in second year; that included dissecting and bottling majority of the basilisk for Severus’ future experiments. 

“No mother, this isn’t it, but the entrance is in here. Harry will show you.” 

“How do you open it,” Blaise leaned over and asked Harry quietly. The Gryffindor merely smirked and stepped deeper into the room towards the taps near the back wall. 

Following him, Fred grinned, “So what do you think? Was old Slytherin a pervert who liked to spy on girls as they used the loo?” 

George and Bill and, somewhat surprisingly, Rabastan and Narcissa laughed as well while Severus merely rolled his eyes. 

“Hmm, I don’t know about the founder, but many of the male students try to peep in here and in the other bathrooms,” a watery voice interrupted just as they were reaching the secret entrance. 

“Hello Myrtle,” Blaise greeted politely. Harry had told him the horror stories from the times he and Ron had affronted the ghostly girl. 

She giggled helplessly. Handsome boys were her one true weakness. “Hi Blaise,” she waved coyly. “Are you all going down to the tunnel?” 

“Yes,” Draco answered, “You’ll keep it a secret won’t you?” 

The ghost tilted her head and thought about it a little. “Only if Harry promises to visit me more,” she stipulated. Sure, Malfoy and Zabini were gorgeous, but after meeting him in his second year, she still had a thing for the Gryffindor. 

Harry smiled up at her, “Sure thing Myrtle, but you’ll have to venture out of your bathroom a little more. People will talk if I’m always sneaking into the girl’s loo for you.” 

She giggled madly and nodded her assent. Scarcely able to contain herself, she flew off in a mad dash and plunged into the toilet in her favorite stall. 

“Now, if you are done cavorting with the undead, can we continue?” Snape asked in his acerbic way and waved his hand towards the snake carving. 

“Right,” Harry squared his shoulders and focused solely on the snake. He never felt the switch in his brain, but he had complete confidence that his next utterance would be in the snake language. _OPEN_.

“Shit,” Rabastan jumped slightly, looking at the small Gryffindor with renewed awe. Maybe the kid really was something special. 

Narcissa and Lucius were suitably speechless. They’d only heard the Dark Lord speak the snake language. Despite Severus and Draco’s claims, parsletongue was one of those rare occurrences that you had to see to believe.

“Well shall we?” Harry asked triumphantly, turning to face the group, stepping aside so they could see the tunnel sloping down into the chamber. 

“Surely you do not expect me to slide down that…that filthy tunnel on my behind like a child,” Narcissa asked with a sniff. 

Severus and Lucius merely rolled their eyes at his wife’s antics. “No, Cissa. Did you overlook the brooms in the corner?” Lucius asked, pointing them out to her. 

“Yes, we will use those to head down and to return. Just in case there are accidents, we have placed reinforced cushioning charms at the bottom. So, after you,” Bill spoke up nudging his brothers forward. 

“Last one’s a rotten egg,” George shouted, grabbing a broom and plunging down the hole with a loud joyful whoop. 

“You do know we have to go down in a straight line don’t you, you wanker,” Fred yelled after him with a laugh, diving after his twin. 

Selecting his own broom from the four remaining, Rabastan grinned, “Something is really wrong with those boys.” 

“I have been saying that since their first year,” Snape drawled, pursuing Lestrange down the hole, followed closely by Bill and Draco who had brought their own brooms. 

Harry hung back while Narcissa and Lucius removed their expensive outer robes and mounted their brooms. 

When they were alone in the room, Harry cocked his head at Blaise, “Are you going? You’ll definitely want to see it. I’m sure you’ve been dreaming about this chance since you were a child just like every other baby Slytherin,” Harry teased. 

Blaise smirked, “Yes, but it will still be there in a minute or two,” he said, pressing Harry into the wall beside the entrance. 

Harry swallowed and licked his lips before wedging a hand between their bodies and pressing his glasses further up the bridge of his nose. 

Blaise dipped his head forward and buried his face in the crook of Harry’s neck, his larger body enveloping the smaller Gryffindor’s. “We are going to have to get rid of those someday soon.”

“I like my glasses,” Harry gasped as Blaise nipped at him with a grunt. “What are you doing? They’re waiting, and Sirius-”

“I know,” Blaise mumbled, lifting his head, the lust apparent in his eyes. “I just couldn’t keep my hands off of you after hearing that,” he pointed to the open entrance. 

Harry’s mouth opened in a little ‘oh’, and he grinned a teasing smile. “You liked that?” 

“You have no idea,” Blaise arched an eyebrow with a sexy smirk, stepping back and handing Harry his fire bolt. 

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Harry grinned, swatting Blaise towards the entrance with his broom. “Now get down there.” 

“Yes sir,” Blaise saluted and flew down the tunnel. 

Harry reached the bottom and slowed to a stop. “Is everything ready,” he called, entering the large chamber and moving over towards Bill and Severus. 

“Pretty much,” Bill answered from where he was bent over separating different vials into three different groups. “The runes have been drawn; we have the mirror in place, and everyone we need is here. And, now the last ingredient,” he listed, retrieving the goblin’s blood. 

“Good,” Harry nodded turning to face everyone milling around the room, exploring every nook and cranny and gazing up longingly at Slytherin’s oversized statue. 

“Everyone gather around,” Severus called, taking up his natural leadership role. “We are set to begin. Your jobs are fairly simple. When Bill invokes the magic of the runes, it will whip around the room aimlessly, and your job – Lucius, Narcissa, Rabastan, Fred and George – is to channel that wild magic and focus it towards the mirror to create the portal.”

“This magic along with our own guiding it will sustain the portal,” Bill cut in passing a light blue potion around the room, keeping one from himself. “I will be helping with this aspect, and this potion will bolster our own stores and attune our magic to that of the runic magic we will be harnessing.” 

Lucius nodded his understanding, “Okay, but what will my son be doing?” 

“He will be helping me,” Severus said, handing a sludgy hunter green potion to both Draco and Blaise. 

They both grimaced with twin expressions, eyeing the potion’s warily. They had only worked on the blue ones, so these disgusting things were an unpleasant surprise. 

“I have to drink it too,” Harry told them, noticing their faces. 

“As do I, so stop your whimpering,” Severus said also handing them bright red potions. “The red ones are protective potions that have the dual purpose of syncing our magic with that of the portal and bolstering our magical cores and bodies. That is crucial for Potter and I, but the strain on you two as our anchors will be great as well. The green potions strengthen the bond between each of us to tether us to this plane. Draco, you and I will draw on our bond as godfather and godson, which is substantially weaker than theirs, but it is better than nothing and should do the job admirably. Harry,” he turned to the Gryffindor. 

“Wait just a moment,” Narcissa said with a stony face. “No one told us that Draco would have such a dangerous role in this.” 

“Mother, it is fine,” Draco assured her. 

“No,” she cut him off, leveling a glare at Severus and stepping protectively in front of her only son. 

“He will be fine Cissa,” Severus tried to assure her quickly. He was as ready to begin this journey as Harry was. The longer they tarried, the worse Sirius would become while he waited for them. “He cannot be sucked into the portal after me,” he assured her. He didn’t tell her about the potential for magical exhaustion, but that was a risk they all faced, and the potions were meant to prevent that. 

Narcissa backed off a little but placed a soft hand on Draco’s shoulder. 

“Don’t worry, Mrs. Malfoy; we’ve taken every precaution to minimize the danger to each of us, especially Draco, Harry, Blaise, and Severus,” Bill said, throwing a sly wink at Draco. 

“Now, Potter, this is for you,” Severus said, producing a final potion from within his robs. “I just recently finished this one. It should strengthen your connection with Black, so that we’ll be able to find him fairly easily.” 

“Okay,” Harry nodded, grabbing the vial and uncorking it along with the others. He swallowed each of them down in turn and focused on the magical changes in his body. He could feel the bond between Blaise and himself roar beneath his skin, but he was used to the waxing and waning of that bond’s magic. It fazed him little. The other, presumably the bond between himself and Padfoot, was new and pushed and wriggled about for room as it asserted itself and nestled down beneath the other. 

Harry shivered and goose bumps rose on his skin. “That was odd,” he mumbled to himself as Bill swiftly positioned everyone in a circle around the mirror lying on the floor in the center of a circle of runes. There were three designated squares for each position where two people could stand or sit just inside of the runic circle. Inside of the circle were the mirror and another square just in front of it. 

“Initially, everyone will be a part of the circle, standing inside of the squares, but after the first five minutes three of you will drop out, so that we can alternate. By having three sustain the portal and three others resting, we can switch out when we tire to refuel and maximize the time we hold the portal…” 

As Bill explained the particulars, Blaise pulled Harry aside and slid a possessive hand into Harry’s hair, tugging him into his chest and sighing as Harry wrapped his arms tightly around his waist. They stood silently for a few moments before Blaise pulled back and gazed deeply into Harry’s eyes. The look in the Slytherin’s eyes was completely different from his expression in the bathroom. This one was soft and very tender. He bent down and pressed a feather light kiss to Harry’s lips. “We do not know what is over there, so I want you to be careful,” he cautioned Harry, lifting a hand and fingering Harry’s pendant. With a sigh, he circled his hand around Harry’s neck and pulled him closer, inhaling his scent and absorbing his warmth. The Slytherin just couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling rumbling in his chest. 

“Blaise. Harry, we need you,” Bill called when everyone else was in position. Once they reached the circle, they carefully stepped inside to join Severus and Draco. Draco placed a hand on Blaise’s back between his shoulder blades. Aside from anchoring Severus, the blonde’s second duty was to help support Blaise who, apart from Harry and Severus, would probably hold the most difficult position because his connection with Harry was the strongest, so Harry would draw a lot of energy from the Italian. Severus and Draco’s bond was too weak for the potions master to really draw much energy or magic from him, so Draco’s risk was minimal. 

Without preamble, Bill lifted his hands waist high over the runes and began to chant. As magic began to fill the chamber, the air became thick and heavy, pressing down heavily on the people in the room. Severus uncorked the blood and poured it over Harry’s two-way mirror. With a flash, the mirror floated into the air and quadrupled in size, spreading to the size of a large bedroom window about five feet high and three feet wide. 

With a final surge, the magic swept violently around the room, whipping their robes and hair about and knocking the empty vials about the chamber. Their prepared baskets of food and water in the corner slid across the room but luckily did not spill their contents. The glassy mirror undulated and wavered before them as if it couldn’t decide if it wanted to grow larger or shrink back down to its normal size. 

“Now,” Bill yelled, as the magic threatened to tip Salazar’s statue over with its rampaging. The stabilizers closed their eyes and focused as much as they could, pulling the magic inside and channeling it through their own magical cores and releasing it again, directing it toward the portal glowing in the center of their wide circle. 

Rabastan opened his eyes as he felt the magic slowly become more manageable and less oppressing. As he lowered his occlumency shields for just a second, he gasped and nearly lost his concentration. He’d never seen such an angry kaleidoscope of magic undulating and twisting over itself like a pit of angry snakes. By the looks of things, he was sure that this was dark ritual. Although, he figured he should have assumed that, considering that it was a blood ritual and that it was created by a thief and a goblin. Still he was impressed that these Gryffindors were willing participants of something like this; his respect for them and their drive and determination to save a family member and friend grew exponentially.

After a few minutes, the portal stabilized as much as was possible, and Severus and Harry stepped forward. For a second, Harry missed the warm press of Blaise’s fingers against his back, but he didn’t have time to focus on it as he was engulfed in darkness as he chased Severus’ back through the portal, steely determination written across both of their faces.

\---:::---

Harry was slightly worried as his feet hit solid ground, but he still couldn’t see much of anything. He wasn’t sure if Snape was still standing before him; in fact he couldn’t be sure of anything. He inhaled and began to stretch his hand outward to reach for Severus when he was knocked to his knees, panting as an invisible force settled on his shoulders and pressed him inexorably towards what he assumed was the ground, pressing the air from his lungs. There was so much pressure behind his eyes, he was sure that they would come flying out of their sockets any second now.

He could just hear Severus gasping to his right. At least he hadn’t lost the man, Harry thought ruefully. Not that it would matter in the slightest because they were surely about to die. Harry’s arms and legs collapsed beneath him, and he slammed into the ground, fingers clawing into the dirt as he fought to drag in one breath after another, determined not to suffocate in this place. Just as he felt ready to blackout a bright light burst behind his eyes, blinding him as completely as the impenetrable darkness had seconds earlier.

\---:::---

“So, you’re trying to convince me that there is an ancient Egyptian Goddess from the twelfth dynasty standing guard over your left shoulder?” Severus asked incredulously, his eyebrows in danger of disappearing into his hairline.

Harry crossed his arms defiantly, “Is it really that hard to believe considering where we are at the moment?”

Severus snorted. 

“I’m serious,” Harry frowned. “A minute ago we were seconds away from passing out and most likely dying, and now we’re not. Besides, we can see now when before it was pitch black; that’s not our doing. It’s hers,” Harry jerked a thumb over his shoulders.

Severus lifted a slightly skeptical but intrigued eyebrow, “Hers? Which goddess are you speaking of exactly?” As improbable as it seemed, he couldn’t imagine why Harry would lie to him or make such a thing up, but before he could continue his questioning, Harry reached forward and grabbed his hand unexpectedly. 

Severus didn’t even notice the beautiful ancient goddess standing just beyond Harry’s shoulder because he was bewildered by the youth’s brazen actions. Not many people voluntarily touched him, and he had become accustomed to the dearth of human contact. It was a sad realization he knew, but it was his life nonetheless. 

“Amaunet suggested that I hold your hand, so that you could see her through contact with me,” Harry explained with a knowing smile. Severus bristled a little, but upon more scrutiny he noticed Harry’s playfulness, and even if he hadn’t he couldn’t ignore the ease with which the boy grasped his hand tighter and slightly slid his thumb back and forth soothingly. Severus came up short and a strangled sound was trapped in his throat; he couldn’t even begin to remember the last time he had been _soothed_ in any manner, and Potter – of all people – was holding his hand like it was golden. 

_What the bloody hell_ , he asked himself even as he curled his own fingers lightly around the boy’s. 

“We really should continue our journey,” Amaunet interrupted his thoughts with a sardonic expression leveled at him, and he finally looked up and noted her presence with a wide-eyed stare.

The woman behind Harry was very beautiful indeed; Severus noted, eyeing her unabashedly up and down. Her stomach was bare, and a single piece of fabric was knotted around her slender waist, protecting her modesty somewhat, but it rode low on her shapely hips and stopped well before it reached her knees, parting in a deep slit down her right leg. Everything on her was bronze and gold, matching her smooth dark skin tone and long, bone-straight ebony hair. Squinting, the potions master could just make out a fine gold dusting of glitter or sand upon her arms and stomach, making her shimmer fetchingly. Gold lacework and tiny medallions strung together to cover her bosom, but it left little to the imagination. An ornate necklace, baring what appeared to be the likeness of a man or another God hung between her breasts. Neat plaits and beads adorned her hair intermittently. In a word, she was exotically stunning.

“Told you,” Harry smirked as he turned abruptly to the left and began tugging the flabbergasted potions master behind him; Amaunet smiled laughingly half a step behind them. 

As they traveled and took in their surroundings, Amaunet explained more about herself and the place they were in.

“I am surprised,” Severus said. “Having an ancient goddess appear is strange in and of itself, but if one were to appear I would have guessed it would be Persephone or Hades or perhaps Ammut if we are dealing solely with Egyptian Gods and Goddesses.” 

Amaunet nodded, “I have heard tales but am largely unfamiliar with this Persephone and Hades and that over which they preside, but I understand your thinking in supposing that my cousin Ammut might be here. It is a common mistake that many mortals make.” 

“Who is Ammut?” Harry asked. 

Turning to Harry with an indulgent smile, the Goddess explained, “Ammut is the Goddess of the underworld. She is often called the Devouress of the Dead and is often misunderstood. Despite, her nasty moniker – given to her by the mortals I might add – she is a very pleasant person to be around. She is kind and above all fair, and she is surprisingly quiet though very resolute in her decisions, completely unshakeable when she has made up her mind about something. In my opinion, all people should aspire to be like her.”

Harry smiled and stepped over a rotten shadowy hump that appeared to be decaying tree root. Nothing was alive here, which was unsurprising to Harry and Severus, but they were thoroughly surprised to see anything recognizable from their world. 

“Ammut,” Amaunet continued, “is the final judgment of all mortals after they have expired in the living world. She weighs their hearts on the golden scales in the Hall of Two Truths and annihilates, without discretion or exception, all of those who have led wicked lives on earth. ‘No evil deed goes unpunished’,” she finished gravely with a nod. 

“But she would never dwell in a vile place such as this,” the goddess grimaced and turned her nose up at their surroundings. “Nor should she have to even if she does reside over the dead. Provided that you have lived a fair and just life and your heart balances on Ammut’s scales, there are many wonderful things to be discovered when you are dead or when you leave the world of the living I should say. It is not a curse as this place clearly is.” 

“Where exactly are we,” Severus asked. “Black did not mention a thing about black rivers and dying trees. I am not certain what I expected to see, but a ghastly distortion of the Forbidden Forrest is not it.” 

The goddess nodded, “That is most likely because the man you seek to retrieve can no longer see his surroundings clearly. As his magic and life force diminishes so do his senses, particularly his sight since it is so very dark and oppressing here. It must have taken a great amount of time for his eyes to adjust to this realm and then a much shorter time for his magic to deplete to dangerous levels, weakening his eyesight among other things.”

“So Siri is losing his eyesight?” Harry asked worriedly, picking up his pace a tiny bit.

“It is very likely, but once he leaves this place, provided his body is still intact, he should be able to recover.”

“What else can you tell us,” Severus asked, not wanting dwell on that negative thought. It was disturbing both him and Potter.

“This place,” Amaunet gestured to their surroundings, “has always existed, and during the time of the New Kingdom in Egypt and the reign of Amun, the supreme god of our Egyptian pantheon, it was called, The Pit of Negation for nothing, not even a goddess can sustain life here for long.” 

Severus eyed warily the tenuous, undulating thin veil she’d cast around them, shielding them from the degenerative forces emanating from the Pit. It waved around them like drapes in the wind; it didn’t seem sturdy or very reliable at all. “Well that was certainly reassuring. I thank you heartily for that,” he deadpanned. 

Amaunet laughed, “Do not worry yourself Severus Snape. I have power plenty enough for the short time we will remain here.” 

“Can you explain more about this place and yourself,” Harry interrupted and asked as they moved along, trying to distract himself a little. It was difficult to follow the weak draw towards Sirius and ignore the stronger one beseeching him to turn back and return the way they’d come. Despite the discomfort, it was encouraging to know that the bonds and potions were working as they should.

“Yes, I would like to know a little more as well,” Severus nodded, “I find it difficult to believe my eyes even as I stand here and gaze upon you.”

“Very well, what would you like to know? Harry you may go first.”

Severus rolled his eyes, clearly the goddess had a favorite, but that didn’t bother him in the slightest.

Harry thought for a moment, but was still having trouble focusing, so he shrugged and shook Severus’ hand, “Why don’t you ask her something first, Professor?” 

He nodded and considered the goddess closely, “First of all, where did you come from? If you can’t live here naturally, then something must have brought you here.”

“Harry carried me here,” she answered easily.

“No, I didn’t,” the boy protested instantly. 

“You have forgotten about the pendant the young Zabini boy has given to you?” Amaunet inquired with a raised eyebrow, reaching out and tugging on the amulet with her face on the front. 

“Many artifacts and relics held in museums, churches, and temples today contain the spirits of Gods and Goddesses long past. As mortals’ faith began to wane, we began to lose power, and could no longer come and go as please into the land of the living. That takes a lot of magic and spiritual power as you might imagine. We confined pieces of ourselves into relics such as these,” she said, dropping the necklace against Harry’s chest, “and eventually over the millennia as those pieces were passed around to believers in temples or through faithful family lines like the Zabini boy’s maternal line those spiritual pieces slowly grew in strength allowing me to manifest before you know as I was of old.” 

Severus made the connection just as Harry gasped and exclaimed, “Like a horcrux?” 

The goddess scowled at them both, “Those vile things you speak of are a dastardly perversion of the magic we used in the days of yore. We painstakingly worked this magic out of love and devotion to the few people who still believed in and worshipped us. Those horcruxes twisted our vision, using it for greed and selfish ambition. Mortals who want live forever and rules as gods, bah!” she spat. “They will never succeed and never be worthy.”

Severus was deep in thought. If the Egyptian Gods and Goddess’ spell was the inspiration and template for horcruxes, then she must know more about them and could possibly help them learn to more easily locate and destroy horcruxes.

Amaunet raised her hand as Harry began to apologize and Severus began to ask more questions, “Quiet,” she hissed urgently, crouching and slinking forward and positioning them all behind a large boulder. 

“What is it,” Harry whispered gripping his wand tightly. 

Severus narrowed his eyes and looked out into the darkness for a long time, but he couldn’t see anything. Then he noticed the undulating shadows and the distant hissing, crunching, and gurgling. 

“What the bloody hell is that?” Severus nearly yelled, his eyes widening. 

“Earlier I said that nothing can sustain life here for long. Those creatures are the reason why; they are the life sucking force that destroys the souls trapped here and absorbs anything that carelessly wanders in here through the veil you spoke of.” 

“Dementors?” Harry asked.

The goddess swept her bangs from her eyes, “I am unsure of what you speak, but if they are mindless soul-destroying, ravenous monsters that plague all living creatures, then yes these are dementors, and they are very powerful in this place. A mad sorcerer once released a plague upon Amut’s kingdom, sending these things to torment the Gods; they nearly succeeded in destroying us. In the Pit, they are innumerable and even more formidable.”

“Great,” Harry groaned, grabbing both of their hands and tugging them away from the disgusting monstrosities feasting in front of them. They gave them a wide berth as they searched for Sirius. 

“Are we nearing your godfather, Harry? The creatures I told you about earlier have not yet bothered us, but it is only a matter of time, and it is unwise to tarry here. I have hidden the entrance to your portal home, but the creatures may find it, and I do not think I need to tell you what a calamity that would be.”

\---:::---

Bella had nearly swooned at the abrupt appearance of her lord’s familiar who had been absent with the Dark Lord for months, taking only the disgusting rat along with him. How she had begged and pleaded to be taken along only to be chastised and punished for her disobedience and carrying on. She’d railed for days after his departure, and many young recruits had felt the bite of her wand.

She rushed as fast as her skirts would allow to the Dark Lord’s chosen receiving room. “My Lord,” the sycophant gasped breathless, collapsing into a kneeling position directly in front of him. As the first to reach his side, this was her privilege. 

Voldemort acknowledged her with a caressing hand to the top of her head, “How were things in my absence?” 

He listened to her report with half an ear as the room filled with his followers. Most were there as he’d commanded that they spend all of their free time in Malfoy Manor, mostly to keep them from doing anything stupid without his supervision. Majority of them couldn’t be trusted to act on their own, useless as they were. 

He listened to various trivial reports before sending most of the grunts away and ordering Bella to retrieve a ripe muggle for him to relieve the lingering stress of his journey. 

“New guests will be joining us shortly,” he told his inner circle and the select few others who he had allowed to remain. 

Turning to the fuming witch at his feet, Voldemort sneered, “What are you still doing here Bellatrix? I gave you an order. I expect it to be followed…promptly.”

“But, milord surely I would be better suited to-”

Voldemort glowered at Bellatrix, “Get out of my sight and do as I commanded,” he ordered throwing a low level crucio at the witch. “That is the only thing to which are you suited.” 

She groaned on the stone, and it was closer to a moan; that’s why he secretly hated Bella. She was enamored with him, but yet she would not give him what he truly wanted, those titillating blood curdling screams. 

She was a capable and loyal soldier though, and she was a ruthless, born leader who would help him greatly in his quest to rule over the wizarding world. However, she was not the tactician that Lucius was nor did she have the imagination that Rabastan and Barty possessed. Neither did she possess the clinical finesse that Severus showed on his missions. 

Voldemort grit his teeth and released Bellatrix, so she could scuttle away and do as he’d bid. The issue the Dark Lord had at the moment was that half of his inner circle was missing! He growled as he looked around his half empty receiving room in Malfoy Manor. The reason he’d chosen the Malfoy Manor, among others, was so he could have constant access to his circle without having to summon them. The fact that both of the Malfoys were missing as well as many of the others who boarded there on his command rankled. 

“Rodolphus,” he called. 

“Yes, Milord?” the man in question strode forward and kneeled before him. 

“Where are the Malfoys and your brother?” 

“Sir,” he answered immediately, “Lucius has gone to the Ministry and Narcissa has gone shopping I believe.” 

Voldemort hummed, “Jackson,” he waved the stubby man forward. 

“Yes, Milord?” the man in question stepped forward and knelt as best he could before his lord. 

“You have just returned from the ministry, have you not?” Upon the man’s nod, he continued. “Did you see the Malfoy patriarch there?”

“No, sir.”

Rodolphus froze, and fear crossed his face quickly before he could clear it. 

“Well, Rodolphus, I must assume that you are lying to me,” The Dark Lord grinned evilly. 

Lestrange shook his head minutely, “No, Milord I have-”

“Did I give you permission to speak,” he hissed. With Rodolphus sufficiently cowed, he continued, “Now, either you have lied to me, or you have been lied to. Either way, I am becoming increasingly perturbed. You, Rodolphus are an imbecile whose idiocy is only tempered by that of you wife and brother, so I do not believe you capable of lying to me, but you should be more discerning in the future,” he admonished before he cursed him. He held the spell for two minutes before releasing it. 

“Ladies and gentlemen, the time has come. My plans have been fruitful, and soon we will rise and show the vermin of the ministry and wizarding Britain the might of the dark. Soon, we will reclaim the world that is rightfully ours and rule with an iron fist, but first,” he paused dramatically, standing and stalking over to Rodolphus, the heels of his boots clicking against the stone and filling the chambers ominously, “give me your arm Rodolphus. It is time we called our wayward friends home.”

\---:::---

Harry looked around and stopped just at the edge of a clearing in the dense forest that was the Pit of Negation. He was puzzled, “He should be here. I feel it, and-” The Gryffindor gasped as he noticed the swarm of shadows undulating in a massive horde before them.

“No,” he muttered in horror, stumbling forward. 

Severus grit his teeth and pulled his wand. 

“You cannot fight them,” the goddess cried as Severus and Harry lifted their wands in unison. 

“The hell I can’t,” Snape growled. “EXPECTO PATRONUM!” 

Harry echoed him and the deer charged forward into the pit, and an earsplitting screech charged the through the air as the creatures shrieked furiously, filling the sky and darkening the area impossibly further. 

Harry and Severus sprang into action, racing into the middle of the fray towards the limp body on the ground. They had little time to focus on Sirius as the Dementor-like creatures turned to surround them, but they did notice how emaciated and ashen the man appeared. He was in much worse condition than when he’d escaped from Azkaban, and that terrified Harry. 

He couldn’t dwell on it for long though because the swarm was more than their patronuses could handle. The spells fizzled out and the creatures advanced forward. They positioned themselves loosely around Sirius’ fallen body, and gripped their weapons tightly. Amaunet peered through her conjured battle gear, which wasn’t much, just a golden jackal mask, a large chain syche, and a short sword sheathed at her waist. 

“What do we do?” Harry asked. The creatures were circling them for the moment, but it was only a matter of time before they charged. 

“Fight them,” Amaunet answered, “they are not creatures of your world, so they cannot die as such; they have no other plane to pass on to, but they can be wounded, and this realm is where they retreat to recuperate.” 

Severus nodded, “So, if we injure them severely enough they might flee to lick their wounds elsewhere?” 

“That is what I believe and hope,” the goddess nodded. “However, by doing battle with them, I am expending much more energy than otherwise, so the time I can sustain us here has decreased significantly.”

“Then we had better end this quickly,” Harry said, raising his wand with more determination. “BOMBARDO!” He shouted, blasting a hole through the thick wall of hissing creatures. 

Amaunet settled into her preferred battle stance and threw her scythe into the horde like a fisherman’s line, hooking and tearing into the creature nearest to her and dragging it from the sky with a mighty tug and roar. As it crashed to the forest floor and shook the ground, the goddess swiftly unsheathed her sword with her free hand and stabbed the beast repeatedly in the neck and head area, wounding it severely. It thrashed until she was forced to release it by the onslaught of its brethren.

\---:::---

“Here,” Bill stood and passed two bottles of water to Fred and George as they switched positions with Narcissa and Lucius. They were switching out every two hours. Bill took Rabastan’s position, and the twins switched with the Malfoys.

Turning to face the middle of the circle, Bill watched the two teenagers with concern. They had the most dangerous tasks because they were not allowed to change position or leave the circle. Doing so would cause the portal to collapse, trapping both Harry and Severus in the void beyond the veil along with Sirius and countless others. 

“Just a little longer,” Bill called to them, receiving only a light grunt and nod from Draco and nothing at all from Zabini. The Slytherin was truly expending all of his energy and focusing solely on the bond between himself and Harry. He’d given them brief snippets earlier when the two had first passed through the portal, but had soon lapsed into silence and deep concentration. 

Zabini grunted and jerked, pinching his eyes closed and grumbled to himself suddenly, the only sort of movement he’d shown in the last few hours. Even Draco shifted and rolled his shoulders from time to time, which was perfectly acceptable for either of them as long as they didn’t lose contact. 

“What is it?” Bill asked hurriedly, moving towards the two in the center but careful not to break the circle. 

Blaise mumbled more to himself but cracked his eyes open slightly, “I think they have found his godfather.”

“Really?” Fred exclaimed around his water bottle. 

“How do you know?” George asked at the same time. 

Blaise glared at their excited yelling, “Harry feels…he’s drawing a lot of energy from the bond,” Draco nodded as he was passing energy to Blaise at a slightly faster rate now. “He seems excited or…” 

The boy was clearly having trouble concentrating at the moment, so Bill merely nodded and smiled. “Well done boys. They should be returning soon, then. That’s great news.” 

One of the twins nodded, “That’s for sure. We’re running close to ten hours as it is, and everyone is exhausted.” 

“Speak for yourself Gred. I can go ten rounds without stopping.” 

Bill groaned as the twins bickered playfully at the side. He was grateful for them though as they kept everyone’s spirits up. The longer the duo remained on the other side of the portal the more tense the air felt on this side as everyone became more anxious. They knew that they only had roughly ten hours to retrieve Sirius, and they were unsure of what might be happening to Severus and Harry as they traversed through whatever was on the other side. Furthermore, and most important and frightening, if they expended the full ten hours or ran into some sort of trouble on the other side of the portal, they had no real plan, no real way to retrieve them. It wasn't like a tomb they could dig up and open directly to let them out. This was it, and it had to work because there were no other options. 

Bill stepped back and stretched. He had some time to rest and replenish himself since he’d only just switched positions with Lestrange. He turned to rummage through their remaining food. He wanted to get to that meat pie before his brothers did. 

Bill was seconds away from the basket, beating his brothers who had presumably forgotten about the basket of food during their teasing and bickering when Lucius, Rabastan, and Narcissa each hissed, grimaced, and groaned respectively before grabbing their left forearms. 

The redhead’s eyes widened, “No, not now,” he whispered to himself as he watched the wall of magic surrounding the portal begin to quiver and waver. 

“What’s happening,” the twins yelled in unison as the magic began to unravel and spark uselessly around the chamber. 

The three inside were panting and heaving, trying to sustain as much of the magic as possible, expending much of their own natural stores to retain what little hadn’t been lost. 

“The Dark Lord,” Narcissa gasped in pain from both her arm and the strain of maintaining the collapsing portal. 

Bill surged forward and stepped into the circle. 

“What are you doing!” his brothers hissed from the perimeter. 

Bill began chanting and insinuating himself as a fourth individual conduit, bending down to erase most of the binding runes as quickly as possible and writing in new ones, allowing not only a fourth but a fifth and sixth member to join the imploding circle of magic. “The magic is dispersing faster than they can replenish it, and soon they won’t be able to sustain it. Likely they will fall into a magical coma given the strain they’re under. Step forward,” he commanded, pointing to the places where he wanted them to enter. 

Fred gasped as he reentered the circle with little rest and felt the immediate draw on his waning magical stores. It was nearly enough to bring him to his knees, and he could see his brothers suffering similarly. 

“This should stabilize the portal somewhat, but we likely have only a half hour before one of us collapses from magical depletion and exhaustion and the portal closes, dispersing the magic completely. Harry and Severus will be trapped,” Bill explained quickly finishing the runes and standing to focus his energy. This was the worst possible thing that could have occurred, and he regretted not planning for such an occasion.

“Should I help,” Draco turned to ask, his face pale with worry. 

Bill gave him a tiny reassuring smile through trembling teeth. “No, remain where you are and help Blaise. If he fades, then this will be for naught anyway.” 

Draco swallowed but took what little solace he could from Bill’s somewhat calmer expression. 

“We need to hurry them along, somehow,” Lucius called in a raspy voice uncharacteristic of the aristocrat. “The Dark Lord is not a patient man, and he will send his summons again if we do not go to him. 

“How long,” Bill inquired through gritted teeth. “One more magical fluctuation such as that and this is all over.” 

Rabastan lifted his head and swiped the sweat from his face, “Ten minutes at the most.” 

“Bollox,” the Weasleys all called.

“Alright Forge,” one of the twins gasped hoarsely, “Ready for those ten rounds?”

The resultant choking laughs lightened the forbidding ambiance pervading the room, but nothing could completely dispel the apprehension and trepidation flooding the chamber. 

Blaise shut his eyes tightly and sent as much as energy as was safe down the bond towards Harry, hoping against all odds that he’d understand, that he’d realize that something was wrong, that he would bring his arse back here so that Blaise could lock him in a tower somewhere for the rest of eternity.

\---:::---

Severus was exhausted as he cast at the last remaining creatures, “EXPULSO! CONFRINGO!”

Amaunet had long since stopped battling the creatures, taking a seat near Sirius to conserve her energy and focus on maintaining the ephemeral shield protecting them from the toxic atmosphere. She was pleased to note that just shielding Harry’s godfather from the realm’s natural poison allowed him to breathe a little easier. 

“We must hurry,” she panted, sweat dripping down her face. 

Harry fell back towards them and began to pull his godfather up into his arms. He could barely hold him, but the man had lost much of his weight, so he could manage as Severus worked over the last two creatures who just didn’t know when to quit. 

The goddess stood and helped the boy with his godfather. “How far is the portal from here? Is there a shortcut?” she questioned. “I will not make it if it takes as long as it did to get here.” 

Harry bit his lip. It wasn’t like he was familiar with this place or with the portal, but he could focus on the connection between himself and Blaise. The bond connected them to the portal and their home. It didn’t make sense to him that they had to travel to some arbitrary point in the Pit just to access that connection. In fact, he wasn’t sure why they didn’t appear directly beside Sirius in the first place. 

Severus collapsed to one knee beside them. “I cannot travel that far either,” he heaved, pressing a hand to the ground to stand again. 

“I know!” Harry ground out in frustration. He was nearly about to collapse too; he didn’t need the added pressure. He closed his eyes and focused inward, pulling and tugging on the bond inside, forcing it to the forefront of his mind until it burned fiercely beneath his skin. He could feel the painful tug around his middle as he’d only felt when the bond was new and unstable. As he pulled and pulled, forcing the connection with Blaise to flood his mind to the point that he felt as if he could almost touch him, he felt a surge of energy stab through his chest. It felt frantic and clawing, ripping through his chest cavity with urgency. Harry screamed, startling the others, and when he reached out with his free hand, this time he actually was touching the real Blaise.

\---:::---

Harry awoke in a completely white washed room with a large window in front of him. The bed he was lying in was white as where the sheets and his clothes. A cursory glance around revealed a single chair and table bedside his bed. Both were disappointingly empty. He knew that he was probably in the infirmary, and if that was the case, then he must have been pretty bad off if Madame Pomfrey had seen fit to provide him with his own room. Harry closed his burning eyes and began to drift back to sleep when he heard his door creak open, prompting him to open his eyes again.

“Thank Merlin you’re awake now,” Draco said, walking into his room a few minutes later with a tray of what looked to be broth and water. “Blaise is going to be upset he missed you though, so try not to fall back asleep before he arrives. I sent him down to shower and eat. He was a right mess this entire time hardly leaving your side, and I tried to explain to him that you didn’t want to wake up to such a sight,” Draco said, uncharacteristically talking a mile a minute. 

“Blaise has been growly and broody the entire time you’ve been unconscious, so I forced him out mainly to give us a break from his surly attitude. I swear he’s been channeling _my_ godfather this entire time, and one growly beast is enough for the entire castle.” 

Harry snorted, “Hmpf, obviously you don’t know me very well. I’ll take Blaise anyway I can get him growly, stinking, or otherwise,” Harry said tiredly. Apparently he’d been asleep for a long time, but he felt like he needed to sleep for at least another forty-eight hours. 

Draco just smiled with relief at Harry’s first words. “I’m sure he’ll be pleased to hear that.” The blonde reached down and clasped his shoulder. “I really am glad you’re awake now Harry. Madame Pomfrey said that it was just magical exhaustion and that you would wake up on your time when your body was ready, but it’s Tuesday; you’ve been out of it for nearly four days already, and you gave us quite the fright.” 

Harry nodded and swallowed against his dry throat. 

“Here,” Draco pressed a plastic cup to his lips, “it’s water. Drink it.” 

Harry sipped it and sighed at the blissfully cool liquid. “I’ll go get Blaise now.” Draco said replacing the cup on the bedside table. Before Harry could protest and asked any of the questions beginning to assert themselves in his foggy mind, Draco disappeared out of the door.

Harry was seconds away from drifting back into oblivion when his door burst open. “Harry!” Blaise rushed into the room, a large black cat hot on his heels. “If you ever frighten me like that again, I promise I will ring your sweet neck,” the Slytherin said, dropping to his knees and pressing his face into Harry’s stomach. 

“Shh,” Harry smiled, running his hand through Blaise’s hair softly. He barely had the energy to do it, but he’d do anything to soothe and reassure his lover. 

Blaise turned his head to face Harry’s weary, smiling face. The Slytherin’s eyes were shining with unshed tears, but his peace was short lived when the cat, now transformed into a tiny kitten landed on his head. 

“When you returned, did you have to bring this thing along,” Blaise grumbled, gently pulling the kitten off his head and placing it on top of Harry instead. The kitten padded up his body and nuzzled his face. “That cat, kitten, or whatever – it has been transforming from cat to kitten to snarling panther for days now – has been following me around everywhere, and it refuses to leave your side at night.” 

Blaise chuckled and shook his head wryly, “Madame Pomfrey nearly lost a hand when she tried to drag the cat out of the room by the scruff of its neck and ended up with a roaring panther in her face. I swear you pick up the strangest tag-alongs, Harry.”

“Yeah, you should know,” Harry teased. Blaise merely rolled his eyes with a quiet laugh. 

“Hello Amaunet, you haven’t been pestering Blaise have you?” Harry squinted at the kitten on his chest, petting the tiny animal. He knew exactly who she was the minute Blaise mentioned her. What she was doing posing as a feline was anybody’s guess, but he was just glad that she wasn’t left behind. “I think she’s angry with you for calling her a lesser Goddess. I told you she’d take issue with that,” the Gryffindor snickered. 

“Amaunet,” Blaise questioned eyeing the kitten carefully. 

Harry nodded and pulled out the pendant Blaise had given him. It looked exactly the same as before except for a single missing stone in the center of the necklace around the goddess’ neck. Harry tapped the hole left by the vacant jewel, “She emerged from this and traveled with Severus and I through that place which is apparently called the Pit of Negation,” Harry said around a yawn.

Blaise looked completely dumbfounded, and he wasn’t sure what to say about it, so he just decided to ignore it really. When the kitten came to lick his hand before skittering off the bed, Harry smiled. “See, she remembers you. She told me that you were an adorable ch-child,” Harry finished around a cough. 

“The Pit of Negation,” Blaise lifted a single eyebrow, running his fingers over the cat’s soft fur. He would think about the implications of a goddess beneath his fingers later. At this moment he only had eyes for Harry. 

“Yeah, I’ll tell you all about it later, or you can ask Severus. But, how is my godfather,” Harry asked, finally getting to the most important question.

Blaise frowned, “Dumbledore, after finding out what we had done was very angry, but he couldn’t turn Black out of the castle, especially in the condition he was in and especially when Severus threatened to leave his position as professor to take care of Sirius wherever the Headmaster saw fit to send him.”

Harry’s eyes widened and anger blossomed in his chest. “He threatened to turn Padfoot out of the castle?” 

“I do not think he was serious, but I heard him say it. Everything is okay now though, and Black is convalescing in Professor Snape’s quarters. Although he has yet to awaken, he is looking much-” the Slytherin winced. 

Perhaps that was a little too generous, “He is looking a fair bit better than when you all pulled from beyond the veil. He will remain the dungeons for the time being. They all agreed that he shouldn’t be seen by the students as he’s still a criminal and believed to be dead.” 

“What about the Malfoys? Were they and Rabastan seen? How much does Dumbledore know about us? And, what state is Sirius in exactly, how bad is he? He looked dreadful when we found him, so-” 

Blaise could see that Harry was quickly working himself up, so leaned over and pressed his lips chastely against Harry’s to quiet him. “Okay, that Is enough. We can talk about all of this later. You need to rest, Harry,” Blaise admonished, repositioning Harry’s pillows and covers. 

“Wait, I want to see Siri,” Harry objected. 

Blaise shook his head. “You’re too weak to move to the dungeons, and your godfather will likely be asleep for a while longer yet. Patience my Harry, just sleep for now. I know you are tired; you need to rest.”

\---:::---

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Hey guys, that’s the end of this chapter! I know I’m a day late (well technically 2 since it’s like 4am on Tuesday morning), but it’s better than a whole week! I hope you guys like it. I wanted to jam pack it with things and finally get the Sirius part handled, so let me know if it feels rushed or anything. I personally think it came out pretty well, but I still want to know what you guys think. I fell in love Ama when I was writing her character, so I decided that she needed to hang around especially since they’ll be taking a trip to her homeland eventually. She’s a cat, or well several cats, because I didn’t want to add a full OC in because I’ll be dealing with plenty of those soon enough. Besides, how the heck could Harry explain a goddess following him around because Ama is a proud girl, and she won’t be seen in anything other than her royal, traditional garb, let alone long wizarding robes that cover her beautiful skin and physique lolz. Also, I figured Harry needed a BAMF!familiar since Voldemort has Nagini and all of that. So, I hope you guys like her. :) Think of her kind of like Yoroichi except that she doesn’t speak when she’s a cat, and she has several different cat forms. That’s all. Let me know what you guys think!


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **A/N: Hi everyone. Here is chapter 16. I am sooooo sorry for the long wait. I had this chapter 75% completed for a while now, but then a series of crazy events separated me from my computer for a long time, and then I was just trying to recuperate from the ridiculousness…something I don’t even want to talk about ever again, so I’ll spare you guys and more importantly I’m going to spare myself and just beg forgiveness and hope that you all haven’t given up on me or this fic because I’m completely dedicated to this. I love my fic, and I have every intention of completing it. Also, I have a really long author’s note at the end that might try your patience, but if you have the time please read through it for me. That said enjoy this and please read and review and let me know what you think! :)**

**Chapter 16**

Harry spent the next couple of days in the infirmary under the strict care of Madame Pomfrey who didn’t seem any angrier at Harry than she usually was when he landed himself in her infirmary.

During that time, Blaise was a constant companion in his isolated room, giving him updates on his godfather and bringing in his assignments. Most of the adults involved in the rescue had left the castle shortly after Harry and Severus emerged with the missing animagus. Fred and George had commandeered Rabastan for the foreseeable future for a project they were working on. No one knew exactly what it was because they were being unusually tight-lipped about it although Harry thought he had an idea what it might be.

The Malfoys had planned to go to Grimmauld, but they couldn’t without Harry, Sirius, or Dumbledore as he was still the secret keeper for the home. Outside of him, only Harry as the Black heir or Sirius as Lord Black could grant them entrance. Harry worried about them constantly despite Draco’s assurances; he felt responsible for their well-being since he was giving them sanctuary. They still needed to complete the contract, and that’s why he was worried. Voldemort could be searching for them while he was laid up in bed, and there was nothing he could do about it. 

Draco, however, scoffed at his worries because he was more than confident that his parents could take care of themselves for weeks on end without access to their funds or ancestral home. Despite common belief, the Malfoys had friends far and wide, and not all of them were death eaters. They just needed the Gryffindor for longer lasting security which Harry would grant as soon as he was released and could locate them. 

Amaunet rarely left his side, taking her protective duty seriously. When she did venture out to stretch her legs, she usually followed Blaise or Draco about the castle as they went from class to class. She pranced around the castle like it was her own, tormenting Mrs. Norris who was incensed by being usurped but never failed to disappear when Ama prowled through the corridors.

When Harry was finally released from the infirmary, the first thing he wanted to do was go see Sirius. He was told that he was resting in Severus’ chambers where he could be looked after without the students finding him, but the Gryffindor needed to see with his own eyes. Everyone understood that but the Headmaster who immediately waylaid Harry upon exiting the infirmary and directed him towards his office. 

Harry entered and was surprised to find Draco and Blaise waiting for them with the Deputy Headmistress, Professor McGonagall. 

“What’s going on?” Harry asked Blaise. “I thought you two would be in class right now. We have defense this hour.”

Blaise nodded from his seat beside Draco, “Yes, but we were summoned here not too long ago.” 

“The Headmaster wants to speak with us about our _behavior_ as of late,” Draco sneered with his arms and legs crossed. 

“Yes, I do boys. Harry, have a seat,” Dumbledore said gravely. “Your behavior was irresponsible and completely reprehensible, and as such you must be duly punished. I have no wish to inform the Ministry about this, and have another one of the ministry officials taking up residence in my castle, so I cannot inform them about the outside help you all commandeered for this reckless and thoughtless behavior.”

Harry sighed quietly and relaxed just a little. He didn’t like Dumbledore’s tone, and this was his first time seeing the Headmaster since Blaise had told him that the old man had tried to turn Sirius out of the castle. Still, he was happy to know that Dumbledore wouldn’t try to cause trouble for the Malfoys, the twins, Rabastan, or Bill.

“Your punishment is this,” he continued, “two months' suspension.”

“You cannot be serious,” Draco exclaimed. Never before had a Malfoy been suspended from Hogwarts. 

“Mind your tongue young man,” McGonagall chastised. 

Dumbledore shook his head sadly, “I am afraid I am quite serious,” he informed them.

This was completely unbelievable. Harry didn’t even know that a student could be suspended from Hogwarts; it was unheard of. “Headmaster-”

“No, Harry, I can _overlook_ many things, but I cannot condone the use of dark magic.”

Harry’s anger blossomed. ‘So that’s what this was all about,’ he thought, seeing red. “You don’t even know if it was dark magic! And, it did no harm!”

Dumbledore eyed him sternly, “You needlessly endangered every student in this school, and-”

“Needlessly,” Harry hissed, launching from his chair as his newly replenished magic whipped up into a frenzy when he was pushed over the edge. 

“Harry Potter you will control yourself this instant,” McGonagall rushed to intervene just as Blasie placed a steadying hand on Harry’s back, speaking lowly into his ear. 

Harry ground his teeth and glared at them balefully. They were supposed to be friends with Sirius and yet his rescue was considered ‘needless’. Harry was aware of the risks before they began, and they had taken as many precautions as possible to circumvent those dangers. And, _dark magic_? Bah! Harry thought, channeling Ama. He wanted to shake both of the professors in front of him. Who cared if he’d used a dark ritual or not? He wasn’t aware until this moment that the Rasozm’s Portal was considered dark, but Harry was beginning to believe that magic was magic, and if it allowed him to save Padfoot he would do it again and again, except knowingly this time. 

What should matter was the intent to do harm or not, the intent to cause chaos and destruction. To label something as unfathomable and incomprehensible as magic as either light or dark…it just didn’t work, and Harry was beginning to despise such close-minded notions. If it weren’t for this _dark ritual_ Sirius would have been truly lost to him, and he couldn’t tolerate even the thought. Sirius was all the family he had left.

Clearly neither Dumbledore nor McGonagall could understand the wealth of a human life, couldn’t understand how precious it was, to understand that anyone, especially the last of his family was worth saving, no matter how it was done, and Harry could scarcely look at them. 

“When are we to be granted back,” Harry ground out, done with this conversation and these people. He thought that Dumbledore had changed a little in their last conversation, but now he saw that he hadn’t. They would never see eye to eye.

“Harry, my boy,” Dumbledore began in his pacifying, patronizing tone. 

“No,” Harry intervened, “I am not going to waste my breath trying to make you understand just how bigoted and limited as a wizard you are, Professor.” 

McGonagall gasped aloud.

“So just tell me when we are allowed to return, and let me be on my way. I have nothing left to say to you.” 

Dumbledore shook his head sadly, “Two month, you are to miss our Halloween celebrations and return on December 5th, just before finals and the end of term. This will allow you to present your sixth year charms and transfigurations projects on time and minimize the negative impact your absence will have your overall term marks,” he said. “I trust that your relatives will not have an issue if you return a wee bit early this year?” 

Harry ground his teeth and squared his shoulders, “We have already discussed this Headmaster, and I thought that you understood; I am not going back there. I have a perfectly good home to go to now, and I need to see Blaise to finish our charms project, and I cannot work magic around muggles.” 

The Headmaster frowned, “That is a consequence of your behavior young man. Now I really must insist as you are not of age yet-”

“No,” Harry interrupted firmly, “you are not allowed to insist in this matter, Headmaster.” Without another word, Harry spun on his heel and vacated his office, following Blaise and Draco, just barely resisting slamming the door.

“Are you sure that was alright? Surely the boy could have been reasoned with,” McGonagall turned to the ailing Headmaster, who had collapsed in his seat as soon as Harry left his office. He’d expended too much energy during that confrontation, and the stress was wearing on him.  
“And they really did no harm,” she pressed. 

“Minerva, this is my decision,” the Headmaster cut her off. “Harry has the potential to be a great wizard; we all knew that when he was but a year old. The question now is will he use that greatness for good or evil; I do not want to vanquish one dark lord only to give rise to another. I thought that Harry was maturing and was ready to take the mantle of the beacon of the light from me, but his frivolous use of the dark arts has me vexed.” 

Minerva gasped. She couldn’t imagine Harry becoming a Dark Lord and was shocked and appalled to hear the Headmaster say as much. She had only ever seen goodness and kindness from Harry. Yes, he possessed strong leadership capabilities, but there was a deep tenderness that even she could see inside of him. The fact that he had risked his life for a man he had truly never been given the chance to become intimately acquainted with, only emphasized his loyalty and capacity for love and empathy, and despite the means she knew that the young Gryffindor had only good intentions. She herself was no proponent of Dark Magic, but she knew that the wizard made the magic, not the other way around. A propensity towards Dark Magic did not a Dark Lord make, just looking around the headmaster’s office at the number of Slytherins and dark Headmasters – who had all done such wonderful things for this school – should have said something to Dumbledore, but he was willfully oblivious. 

Dumbledore nodded to himself as he took up his quill to pen a letter, making his final decision. “What we discussed previously about his muggle relatives was, from my understanding, only a consideration after he came of age. It has no bearing on this situation. Therefore, the boy will return to the Durselys for the duration of his suspension where I can keep an eye on him. That is my final decision.”

\---:::---

Harry huffed as he paced around Snape’s office with Blaise, Draco, Ron and surprisingly Neville. Bill, Rabastan, and the twins were present as well. Sirius had finally awoken very briefly the day prior, so they had secretly returned to see him. Harry was glad to see them all alive and well, but he still had not seen neither hide nor hair of the Malfoys.

For his part, the Longbottom heir had bravely ventured into the dungeons searching for Draco once the news of their impending suspension had spread around the castle. He wanted to go over their plan for completing the charms project while the blonde was gone. And, in that pursuit he’d found much more going on with his friends than he’d originally suspected.

Like most gossip, it hadn’t taken long for the entire populace to realize that their golden boy was going to be suspended, along with Draco Malfoy and the normally reserved Blaise Zabini. 

Hermione was preening like a cat and basking in Harry’s punishment. She’d shake her head and sigh woefully, telling anyone who asked that she’d seen this coming and that Harry just wouldn’t listen to her. 

“I can’t believe he would say something like that about Sirius,” Harry raged, speaking mainly to himself. 

Ron for his part was completely shocked by the entire ordeal and more than a little hurt. “I still can’t believe that you wouldn’t tell me something this big,” he said quietly to himself. Sirius was important to him too, and he would have wanted to help. Harry had reached out to his brothers, but hadn’t confided in him. 

Harry sighed heavily and sat down beside his best friend, “I’m sorry Ron,” Harry said resting a hand on the redhead’s shoulder. “I should have told you after we made up.” 

Ron nodded stoically, but he wasn’t turning red yet, so Harry assumed that he still had a chance to salvage things with him. “At first, I felt as if I couldn’t trust anyone with my godfather, so I didn’t tell anyone aside from Blaise, but he was there when I first discovered his survival. It was his idea to check the tapestry and the mirror. Everyone thought Sirius was dead and no one wanted to look for him, only encouraging me to forget about him and move on, Dumbledore more strongly than the others, and I couldn’t take the chance that he would find out about it. You saw how he responded after the fact,” Harry explained.

Ron looked down at his lap in deep thought. After a moment of silence, he nodded. “With Dumbledore’s tantrum, I can understand why you didn’t want him to know in the first place, and Hermione would have told straight away. Earlier this year, I probably would have gone along with her because I thought I was helping you. I really thought he was dead, and it would have been fairly easy to convince me that stopping you was for your own good. I hope you can trust me more now though,” Ron pleaded, looking Harry directly in the eyes.

“I _know_ I can now,” Harry smiled, pulling Ron into a hug. He pushed Ron back gently to arm’s length, “you’re my best friend, Ron, my first friend, and I know you meant well before, but now that we’re on the same page, I’m going to need your help now more than ever.” 

Ron cocked his head ready to ask what he meant, but they were interrupted by Severus, “Your godfather is waking now Harry. You all may come in, but keep it quick.” The potions master turned without waiting for answer, and the guests hurried after him before the fireplace slid closed, locking them out again. 

Harry pushed past Rabastan, Fred, George, and Bill to force his way to Sirius’ bedside. His eyes watered and clouded over as he finally laid eyes on his godfather, nestled beneath several coverlets and cushioned on a mound of pillows.

“Siri?” Harry whispered, dropping to his knees and grabbing the man’s hand. He was encouraged by the warmth and the pink tint of his skin. 

Sirius exhaled slowly, but didn’t open his eyes for many minutes even when he heard the rustling of what sounded like robes or long window drapes dragging along a stone floor. He didn’t stir for the creaking of a door or the muffled sounds that followed it for fear that this was but another tormenting dream, an illusion created by his mind to both soothe him and plague him as he wasted away behind the veil.

No, it wasn’t until he felt the tender press of flesh against his and the earnest voice calling his name as only his godson ever had that he braved reality and opened his eyes for only the second time since his rescue. His eyesight was blurry, leaving everything around him shrouded in a haze. It forced him to blink a few times to clear his vision as best he could until he could see Harry’s face clearly. 

“Thank Merlin, Siri! You’re okay,” Harry gasped, squeezing his hand tighter and inching up closer to the bed until he was pressed directly over it. “We got you out, and it’s okay now.” 

“Harry,” he croaked, lifting his free hand as best he can; it just made it across his body to clasp Harry’s hand. 

“Here,” Severus moved into his line of sight with a goblet of water, gently sliding a hand beneath his head to help him take a small sip. The water was so delicious as it ran past his lips and down his throat. 

As soon as the cup was removed Sirius found himself with an armful of Harry. “Hi pup,” he squeezed as hard as he could in his weakened state and had no intentions of letting go. Harry was his son, and he’d already missed so much of his life and then nearly died after finally finding him again. He never wanted to take his eyes off the pup again. 

“Hi pup,” he said again around the tight knot in his throat. “I missed you. I love you.” 

“I love you too,” Harry declared, pulling back to face his godfather once again, wonder still gleaming in his eyes. He’d dragged the man from the Pit himself, yet he still couldn’t believe that he was right here before him. 

As that realization dawned upon him, Amaunet took that moment to insert herself into the conversation by springing spryly into the air and landing on Sirius’ legs. 

“That had better not be Mrs. Norris standing on my legs, Harry,” Sirius warned as he squinted down at the cat, “or dear God, please tell me it’s not McGonagall,” he turned pained eyes upon his godson. 

Harry wasn’t sure why he was so horrified by the thought of McGonagall crawling all over his body, but…Harry nearly turned green at that last thought and the visual it provided. He shook his head rapidly much to the entertainment of those around him. “This is Ama; she’s sort of like my familiar now, but she’s way more than that. In fact, she’s not entirely a cat or a witch, and-”

“Breathe, Harry,” Blaise instructed, pressing a hand to Harry’s shoulder. “I do not think he understands what you are trying to say. You should maybe start from the beginning.” 

Harry turned to face his boyfriend, “Where should I start, the beginning of the school year? Or-”

Sirius cleared his throat, “You could start by introducing me.” 

“Oh right,” Harry blushed, “This is Blaise Zabini, a sixth year Slytherin, and…my boyfriend.” 

“It is great to finally meet you, Sir,” Blaise said, stepping around Harry and pressing his hand into Sirius’. “Harry’s told me so much about you.” 

Sirius’ barking laughter finally filled the room for the first time, “I knew you were a little reckless like me, but I never imagined you’d be daring enough to pursue a Slytherin,” he chuckled. “Better be careful, pup, I hear they bite.” 

With Sirius’ joviality returning everyone relaxed, even those who didn’t really know him. 

Harry grinned, “Well, hopefully I’m immune to their venom because I’ve fallen in with quite a lot of Slytherins while you’ve been gone.” Harry picked Ama up off of Sirius, cradling her in his arms for a while before she tired of that position and moved to drape herself precariously across his shoulders.

At those words, Lord Black finally looked over Blaise’s shoulder and around the room. Directly to the Harry’s right was Rabastan and then the young Malfoy boy, Ron, Neville and Bill. Severus was on the other side of the bed, alone. If there was anyone else present in the room, he couldn’t see them from his prone position. 

“Severus?” 

The potions master rolled his eyes, “Of course it is me you twit. Who do you think followed the brat into that vile place to retrieve your old bag of bones, and you are lying in one of my beds I will have you know, so you had better be on your best behavior whilst you are here.” 

Sirius grinned, “Well, well, my slimy Slytherin in armor,” the animagus joked. 

Severus merely snorted and rolled his eyes at the teasing, “Do not assume that I will come running to your rescue the next time you fall victim to a piece of hanging laundry.”

Harry glanced back and forth between the men, “Just what the bloody hell is going on here?” he whispered. 

Draco was just as taken aback as he’d never seen his godfather, dare he say it, engage in playful banter, or Merlin forbid, flirt with anyone in all of his years. Furthermore, he knew of the stories of Severus’ time at Hogwarts, and as far as he knew his godfather hated Sirius Black. 

Laughing, Sirius finally turned back to the rest of the group and looked them all over, eyeing many of the Slytherins, especially Rabastan, with open curiosity, “Well would someone please tell me what I’ve missed while I’ve been gone. Clearly, much has happened.”

\---:::---

Sirius frowned once Harry finished explaining the bizarre events of this year, including the bond between Harry and Blaise as well as the horcruxes. Glancing around, he realized that he wasn’t the only one astonished by what they’d learned. Ron and Neville seemed particularly taken aback by finding out that Blaise had been cohabiting with them in Gryffindor Tower. Sirius didn’t really blame them; he too would have flipped at the thought of a snake in the lion’s den, but he was more proud of Harry for venturing into the snake pit to pursue his ideals and goals. Now wasn’t the time to delve into the horcrux issue because that called for extensive planning, and they needed to speak with Ama, who was content to lick herself clean atop Harry's lap rather than transforming to speak with them.

“I still can’t believe you’ve been suspended for two months,” Neville commented. 

Harry huffed and dropped his head by Sirius’ leg, “Tell me about it.”

Blaise laid a hand on the back of Harry’s neck and massaged the muscles there lightly, “It will be fine Harry. This might actually be a good thing,” he said, throwing a comforting smile the boy’s way when he finally turned to face him. 

“How?” 

“Good question, Potter,” Draco pouted, still reeling from the decision. He sat back further in his chair and played idly with Bill’s hair as the man sat propped up against his leg on the carpeted floor. He blushed lightly and turned his nose up to the room as everyone turned and focused on his hand buried in Bill’s hair. Bill just smirked and leaned further into Draco’s leg; he was content where he was and had no intention of moving. He hadn’t seen Draco in the last few days, and he’d missed his rebellious, snooty attitude and embarrassed expressions. It was so easy to tease the blonde, and Bill found himself thinking about him and more ways to simultaneously bedevil and tame him. This break would be good for them; it would provide Bill with the time to court Draco slow and steady, properly, the way his parents would no doubt expect.

“First of all, we will have time to complete our projects undisturbed. We will undoubtedly finish in no time. We can begin planning the horcrux hunt, and perhaps you can meet my uncle. Also,” Blaise pointed out to Harry with a comforting smile, “you will have time to spend with your godfather while we are away. And, if you so desire, you will come to stay at my manor and meet my mother.”

“Your manor?” Sirius interrupted with a cough and a frown. “What is wrong with Grimmauld? I thought that Kreacher was finally cleaning it up.”

“Yes, he is,” Harry hedged; he would much rather visit Blaise’s home. It was a little nerve-wracking to meet the Slytherin’s mother, but he still wanted to. This was an important step for their relationship, he felt. 

Severus rolled his eyes at Sirius’ behavior, “No matter the progress that batty elf has made, it is no place for an ailing old man such as yourself.”

“Old!?”

“If she is willing, you will be accompanying Potter, Zabini, and Draco to Zabini Manor,” Snape continued, ignoring Black’s outburst. 

Harry grinned, turning from Sirius to Severus and back again, “So I am definitely not going back to the Dursleys?”

“I thought you made that quite clear before,” Draco snorted. “I thought Harry was going snap and blast Dumbledore straight from his tower when he told Harry he was sending him back to those muggles.” 

Both men glared, “You are certainly not going back to that vile house,” Severus snapped. 

“I second that,” Sirius said, “I am done listening to Dumbledore; you belong with me Harry.” 

The Gryffindor surged forward and wrapping his arms tightly around Sirius, lost for words. He’d wanted to hear his godfather say that for many years now.

“It is good to see you again Sirius,” Rabastan said when Sirius finally turned away from Harry to address the rest of his guests. “I always knew you could not get by without me, but the veil? Honestly? You never could settle. Apparently, Azkaban was not enough for you; you had to go and top yourself.”

Sirius grinned, always easy to forgive, “So you’ve finally come to your senses and have come begging back to the strange side?” 

“Strange side?” the twins popped up and asked, sticking their heads out around Rabastan’s back. 

Sirius arched an eyebrow and looked up at his old friend, “Rabastan,” he said seriously, his expression turning grim, “you’ve gone and sprouted devils from your back. You may want to have that checked out and soon. I hear that condition is irreversible if left to its own devices for very long.”

Everyone in the room burst into laughter, cutting the tension by half at least. Even Severus gave way to a tiny, grudging smile. “Alright, alright,” he stood up, quieting the room’s guests. “Black needs to rest to prepare for the move. All of you out of my quarters, so I can finally have some peace and quiet.” 

As they vacated Snape’s inner guest room, Harry the very last to leave very reluctantly, Severus grumbled, “Entirely too many Gryffindors in my space.”

He startled the convalescing man into laughter once again, chuckling around a hacking cough.

“That includes you too mutt,” the potions master smirked.

Sirius smiled softly as he settled down into his pillows; he was pleased to see that his relationship with Severus hadn’t grown sour again during the time he’d spent in what he now knew was called the Pit of Negation. His relationship with Severus was always passionate and fiery, and as a child he’d hardly known how to handle it, especially when the shy, young boy he’d met on the express while searching for James had been sorted into Slytherin. 

They weren’t fast friends on the train, but Sirius didn’t hate him, and he’d thought Severus to be quite smart if a little too surly and sullen for an eleven year old. At the time though, Sirius was against everything his family represented – you couldn’t find a family prouder to be Slytherins – and Severus had had such a smug and pleased expression when he was sorted that Sirius couldn’t stand it. At first he’d been slightly miffed, but then as James grew to loath Severus and his friendship with Lily, it provided an outlet for Sirius. As horrible as it was, he’d only seen it as good fun, and he’d never imagined just how much damage he was doing until he lured Severus beneath the whomping willow and into the Shrieking Shack during the full moon. 

Even today he can’t imagine what he’d been thinking, but he knew at the time that Severus would never forgive him, and he’d thought that he’d lost all chance at redeeming himself and making things right with the Slytherin once Severus had joined the Dark Lord. Regardless, he felt compelled to try to make amends once he’d escaped from Azkaban and learned that Severus had been a spy for years after James and Lilly’s death, fighting in his own way for his godson. 

Sirius turned his head and watched Severus’ back as his quill scratched quietly away at a desk across the room. “Thank you,” he said out loud.

Severus paused and sat up straight, “Quiet mutt, I have work to do,” Snape said pleasantly without turning around. “Besides, it was all that brat’s idea. If it were up to me, I would have let you turn to bones in that pit.” 

Sirius grinned and finally closed his eyes, “Oh my dear Severus, that type of transparency is unbecoming for a Slytherin of your caliber.”

Severus merely growled and went back to work, ignoring the mutt until he fell asleep. Never in all his imagining did he see Sirius recovering in his quarters in one of his beds. Neither did he see himself tending so fastidiously to his health and recovery, but more than that he’d never imagined feeling so at ease with it. The little mutt had for two years now been trying to insinuate himself somehow into Severus’ life, and the potions master had bristled and been very hesitant and resistant, never giving Black an inch during that time. If there was one thing Snape could do and do well it was hold a grudge.

He ground his teeth just thinking about those first months after Sirius’ escape from prison. Just seeing the mutt again was infuriating and humiliating. The man had seen him at his worst more times than anyone else still left alive, and Severus hated it. However, the Black patriarch was exceedingly persistent and patient. He had a striking wit and playful manner that Severus had learned to enjoy since it was no longer used against him, but he wasn’t sure exactly how he felt about Sirius’ overtures until the reckless mutt disappeared for months behind a damnable piece of drapery. 

It pained him to even think it, but he’d missed having the man around after he’d disappeared, and he’d cursed Sirius during the sleepless nights he had while the man was away, thinking about the horrors he was probably enduring for a second time. Severus had learned long ago that a wizard paid dearly for their misdeeds – he, a living testament to that fact – but he felt strongly that Sirius had paid enough during his time falsely incarcerated in Azkaban, so this most recent trip into hell Severus just couldn’t abide. 

He turned and looked back at the soft expression on the emaciated man’s countenance, before whispering quietly into the night, “You are very welcome, Sirius.”

\---:::---

The next day Rabastan awoke in the Weasley twins’ flat only slightly refreshed. The Dark Lord had been alternately summoning and punishing him for hours throughout the night via the dark mark on his arm. Oh how he loathed the thing; it had been nothing but a torment since it first marred his skin. For the rest of his life, Rabastan would curse his brother and his own youthful weaknesses for getting him into this deplorable situation.

He sat up and stretched, rubbing the crust from his eyes. As they had refused the Dark Lord’s summons, Rabastan and the Malfoys could not return to Malfoy Manor. They had no inclination to face his wrath, and they were soon to finalize the magically binding contract with Potter, extending to them his sanctuary. It only required a few oaths and their signatures with a blood quill, but Potter it seemed was no fool. He had wanted to assure their allegiance by commandeering their aid in retrieving his godfather which was a very dangerous ploy that certainly put their mettle and determination to follow Potter to the test.

Afterwards, they had to wait for Potter’s release from the infirmary which was only granted the previous day. The longer they waited the more vengeful the Dark Lord became as they continued to ignore his summons. 

Shortly after Potter, Snape, and Sirius emerged from the portal, the mirror they used to create it imploded, shaking the very foundations of the castle, and _that_ they could not hide from the Headmaster who, predictably, was livid to find more than one escaped convict as well as known death eaters performing dark rituals beneath his very nose. The man had absolutely no sense of humor unless he was on the giving end, a real spoil sport if you asked Rabastan. As they were summarily thrown from the castle gates, Fred and George bid Rabastan to join the in London in their flat in the Alley. 

Having little else to do with himself until Potter awoke and provided him with a place to stay and a means to take care of himself until the whole fugitive situation cleared itself up, he consented easily enough to their request, granted he had no idea what they wanted to do with him. For the time being, he was helping around the shop under the guise of a new shop hand and numerous glamour charms. He rarely left the confines of the shop and the loft above it except for last night when he secretly accompanied the twins back to the castle to visit Sirius once they heard that Potter had finally been released from Pomfrey’s care. 

Imagine his surprise when he found that the boys had actually been suspended from the castle and grounds for a month. He’d never heard of such a thing; in fact, this may well have been the first time such has happened in Hogwarts history. Given the old man’s manipulative and controlling nature though, Rabastan imagined that Dumbledore had no other recourse. The man was furious and humiliated that such a thing had occurred without his notice or consultation, and he was certainly upset to find that Rabastan, Lucius, and Narcissa had been trusted before himself. It mortified the old man. 

Dumbledore felt compelled to punish all involved, but he could not fire Severus because he needed the spy’s help, and Severus would simply walk away from Dumbledore, leaving both his position as resident potions master and defense professor and his position as spy woefully vacant. He could do little to the Malfoys or Rabastan without revealing that he’d been remiss in duties as a Headmaster and allowed yet again at least one dangerous criminal to cavort with innocent children. Such a thing was intolerable, and the Ministry would see fit to replace him or insert yet another odious ministry official into the school’s staff. No one wanted that, so the adult’s involvement in this entire debacle had been kept secret from the students and much of the staff. 

That left just the children – Harry, Blaise, and Draco – for Dumbledore to discipline. Their behavior while admirable warranted expulsion from the school. Not that this was the first time, Rabastan was learning, that Harry had done something worthy of being expelled. The man wasn’t really surprised. Gryffindors, under the protection of Dumbledore, were often getting away with near murder. This was the first time however, that the Headmaster had really contemplated, reprimanding his students as harshly as their behavior warranted. Alas, Rabastan smirked as he moved through his morning ablutions, the old man could not do it. 

The Malfoys were known to Dumbledore and a few others as Death Eaters, but to many individuals in the ministry and the wealthy gentry they were respectable, wealthy members of society and Draco’s expulsion as the Malfoy heir may very well have caused an uproar. Rabastan chuckled. And that was nothing compared to the wrath of Zabini’s mother. No one wanted to rouse that sleeping dragon. The most important factor that staid Dumbledore’s hand though was the fact that expulsion from Hogwarts, dictated that the perpetrator’s wand be snapped before the Wizengamot, and Dumbledore needed Harry with all of his magic at his disposal to contend with the Dark Lord. 

Rabastan could have laughed at the wonderful way in which the events played out if it weren’t for the incessant burning along his left arm. The pain was doing nothing for his normally pleasant, playful disposition. 

With a sigh, Rabastan donned his clothes for the day and ventured outside to the small kitchen. He needed to begin breakfast because he knew those twins wouldn’t. They stayed up all hours of the night doing Merlin-knows-what in that laboratory of theirs and then they awoke the next morning with singed hair, pink newly grown skin – thank the heavens for Severus’ healing potions – and rumbling stomachs. With the way they speak of their mother’s cooking, Rabastan figured they would know how to cook, but they were abominable in the kitchen. They could create insane candies like Puking Pasties and Electric Shock Shakes and a number of other astounding things, and yet they couldn’t fry an egg to save their lives. It was shameful. 

Removing his wand and flicking it towards the mixing bowls, pots, pans, and oven, Rabastan moved towards the lab where he knew they would sleeping curled up together on the much too small chaise in the corner. Fred and George’s creations were fun and diverting, and Rabastan was all for pulling pranks and having fun at others’ expenses, but as he stood over them and took in their disheveled appearances – baggy bruises under their eyes from sleep deprivation, healing cuts on their hands and arms along with little burns on the pads of their fingers – he thought that the creation process of the _Wizarding Wheezes_ might just be a bit on the reckless side. He bent down and gently swept a lock of hair from Fred’s face. He felt a strange pang in chest that he wasn't sure was pain or something else, but a very soft expression fell over his face as he gazed at them curled around each other. They were quite a precious pair when they were relaxed. When they were active they were certainly more precocious than precious, but Rabastan found that he liked that about them too. 

“Up you two get now,” he said finally, shaking both of their shoulders gently. “I’ll have breakfast ready in a bit, so after you are done showering and dressing come eat.” 

George looked up and grinned sleepily while Fred mumbled into his brother’s shoulder, “Yes, Mum.” 

“Mum,” Rabastan frowned, brandishing his wand. “You had better wake up now, Fred, and realize just who you are speaking too before I show you how we Slytherins take retribution. You thought being bald for two days was mortifying? Just wait until I get done with you.” 

George slid out from under his brother and stepped brazenly into the Slytherin’s space. “You want to show us how Slytherins play?” he crooned suggestively into Rabastan’s ear. 

The Slytherin gulped quietly as he felt a long forgotten pulse slide down his spine. He schooled his face and took as step backwards. “Just hurry the hell up,” he growled before turning on his heel to return to the relative safety of the kitchen, wondering just what exactly those devilish twins had invited him here for. 

Soon Rabastan was setting the table and levitating the food onto separate plates while the juice poured itself into goblets behind him. The twins emerged just as the pitcher was settling itself in the center of their small breakfast table. 

They ate in a comfortable silence for a few minutes before Fred spoke, “This is delicious as usual Rabastan. Just a few weeks ago we were thinking of obtaining a house elf, but you’re turning out to be the perfect housewife,” he teased with a seductive smile. 

Rabastan fought off a blush as his stomach turned itself into knots for the first time in years, recovering he pointed at the redhead, “Keep it up, and I really will turn you into a life size toad.” 

The twin laughed as George smiled warmly at them both. In the few short days that the Slytherin had been with them they’d grown very comfortable around each other. Their pastimes and interests were much the same, and George was pleased to find that Rabastan liked to cause trouble as much as they did. What surprised him and his brother most though was the nurturing side the man possessed that he tried to suppress at all costs. Rabastan was scarcely there for a day before he began to take care of them, cooking meals and requesting potions on their behalf from Severus. Rabastan, they found was much like Sirius, who they admired, but he had a little something extra that just fit with them; he somehow clicked with Fred and George, picking up on the twins’ shared secret glances and non-sensical mutterings. 

A long time ago, Fred and George had resigned themselves to being alone together because they certainly would never separate, and they couldn’t imagine any man or woman who would be able to insinuate themselves into their unique relationship, but they soon began to look upon Rabastan with a small measure of hope. 

“Things seem to have settled down nicely,” Rabastan commented. 

The twins nodded, “We know that you must visit Harry at Zabini Manor to finalize things, but we would be honored if you joined us again…here.” 

Rabastan arched an eyebrow; he’d welcomed their initial invitation even though he knew he would have been welcome to join the Malfoys wherever they went, but he was surprised by this second one. He’d assumed that he would spend his time with his benefactor. 

Fred nodded, “I know that you might like to reconnect with Sirius and spend time getting to know Harry better, but we would like for you to remain here. We could use the help around here, and-” 

“You are right,” the Slytherin interrupted. “I would like to spend time with them. However, I don’t see why I can’t spend equal amounts of time both here and there.” 

The twins shared a look and grinned. “Brilliant!” 

Rabastan rolled his eyes, “You just require someone to cook your meals and doctor you up after you have blown the roof clear off of this place,” he snorted. 

They both had the decency to look somewhat sheepish, “That is part of it yes,” Fred hedged, wondering how much to reveal at this juncture. 

“But,” George picked up, “There is more. We’ve come to appreciate your company. And…”

“And,” Rabastan prompted as the two young men stood and began clearing the empty dishes from the table and working themselves up into their natural whirlwind of motion and barely contained chaos. 

“As you may know,” Fred began, bustling about the loft. 

“Our father is a lover of muggle contraptions,” George finished. 

Rabastan sneered lightly but nodded nonetheless with an amused expression upon his face as he watched the twins race around like mice after a spot of cheese. 

Without pausing, the twins continued their tangled web of discourse. “This has garnered him much disdain among his fellow wizards-” 

“And not just purebloods mind you.”

Rabastan nodded as he moved between them in the room, seamlessly ebbing and flowing with them, “How does this concern me,” he stood in relative safety in the center of the room, the veritable eye of the storm.

“Right. Well, that naturally engendered some interest in us as well just not to the point of fanaticism you might note in our dear old dad. He wants to take them apart and figure out how they work because he has a general fascination with muggles-”

“That none of us can understand mind you,” Fred interrupted popping his head up from behind a cabinet. 

“We on the other hand care little about how they actually operate. What we want to do is create another branch of our store incorporating muggle technology for the use of wizards.”

Rabastan’s eyes shot wide open, “Have you lost your minds?” He croaked. “No self-respecting wizard will use a muggle contraption not that they could even function around our magic.” 

“That is right,” Fred nodded, “they will not work in the presence of magic for one reason or another, and most wizards and witches would balk at the very idea, but hear us out for just a moment.” 

“We do not wish to bring muggles into the wizarding world in fact that’s the opposite of what we want, but we have been thinking. Why do wizards hate muggles so very much…historically?”

Rabastan thought for a moment, setting aside his ingrained prejudices, “In the past,” he began slowly, “they were found to be intolerant and injudiciously violent against magical folk which is why we separated ourselves millennia ago.”

“Exactly,” Fred exclaimed excitedly. “They were dangerous. And their technology,” he held up an automatic pistol and tiny rectangular box thing that Rabastan had little chance of identifying by name, “has given them the potential to be even more dangerous than ever before.” 

“That is the basis for the arguments between light and dark although we acknowledge that there are more misgivings and past injustices than just that. Harry,” Fred said, seemingly changing the subject abruptly, “just wants peace and safety for wizard-kind and all magical creatures, and we think this can help. In fact, this was sort of Harry’s idea.”

George explained, “Initially, he just desired a way to surprise the Dark Lord and his forces, giving us an edge in battle, but as we began to research and strategize we realized that the implications of such experimentation go far beyond their uses in battle and that many others around the world are already exploring various techniques to achieve similar feats…although those experiments have largely ended in failure as have ours.” 

“A muggle weapon and a box?” Rabastan crossed his arms; he had many scruples. 

“Not just these,” George continued. “We can level the playing field, or better yet. Tip the scales in our favor. Many of the muggle technologies could benefit wizards if we tailor them to our own needs. This is what they call a cellular phone. They use it to speak with people much like a floo-call, but with this they have no need to prostrate themselves before their chimneys and they need not be in a building at all for them to function. This is just the beginning. Muggles have weapons of mass destruction that we cannot match, but if we can furnish our own by incorporating the strength of our magic,” the redhead said, raising the pistol in the air. 

“We can make what they have better and more deadly, and they would no longer be a threat to us,” Fred added. 

Rabastan gasped, “Do you have any idea what the Dark Lord would do with this knowledge…with what you want to do? Do you have any idea what the Ministry would do? This could give us the means to destroy the muggles and probably ourselves, and the Ministry despite their claims of peace and prosperity to all would take advantage of such a thing.” 

“Which is why Harry must win,” George implored. “You think we are the only ones thinking of this? Nay, we weren’t even the first. But, with you, we have the means to actually accomplish it. If we can do this first under Harry’s guidance…under his name and leadership people will follow his example. If he uses these things to further separate and protect us from the muggles, then the masses will do so as well. But, if another preempts us and uses the knowledge for ill purposes, we will more than likely fall into a war the likes of which this planet has never seen before.” 

“This is not the time to sit on our laurels,” Fred urged, “and wait for someone to beat us and destroy all that we have come to love and are at this very moment fighting so hard to preserve. By doing this first, we will control it. We can harness it and protect it. And, if Harry wins this war against the Dark Lord no one will challenge him, and we can do much good. But, even as we speak there are wizards and witches trying to achieve the very same goal, and I can assure you that they care not for the chance of peace and prosperity.”

Rabastan sighed, “And Harry knows of this? Everyone knows of this? How has the Dark Lord never mentioned it before? Insane though he may be, he was always an innovator.” 

“We cannot say much for the Dark Lord, but Harry knows of the possibility and that our work could potentially help him in his struggle with the Dark Lord; it was his idea after all. Harry has an uncanny understanding of magic’s potential and an undeveloped awareness of magical theory. It is no surprise he happened upon this idea. However, he is unaware that similar things have been attempted by many in the magical community.”

“What are we to do then? It now sounds as if we have to fight the Dark Lord as well as evil tinkerers,” Rabastan sneered at the very thought, imagining little hunched over men who rarely bathed or ventured outside of their homes. 

The twins snickered. “Help us. Your ability to see magic can guide us, and we will succeed, and then we will use this for the good of everyone; under Harry’s leadership everyone will fall into line. No one will challenge him for decades to come, and when they do we will destroy them, but we cannot do so if we are ill-equipped. They will have weapons that we have no defense against if we do not match them now. For years, everyone will wonder how we did it, and many may even give up seeing as the deed has already been done, and we will make no weapons except for those that might help us vanquish the Dark Lord and protect us from future usurpers. Anything else would be intended for entertainment and convenience.” 

“You understand that this is madness, right?” Rabastan grinned, finally coming around to the adventure of it all.

“Well, of course,” they grinned in return. 

Rabastan rubbed his hands together, convinced, “What did you have in mind?” 

“We are working on these phone things first for long-range communication and covert operations, especially when you have limited access to the floo and a letter would be too slow. Muggles seem to have issues with what they call cellular service which we do not understand at all. It has something to do with invisible waves and wires and large poles.” George waved his arms in large puzzled gestures. “Also, powering this little thing is an issue, but with magic we will become its power source and this so called cellular service. Our creation will be much more durable and less limited than two-way mirrors which have only one connection for only two people. Imagine hundreds of two-way mirror connections in this single box.” 

The Slytherin nodded, very intrigued. “What else?”

Fred moved to stand behind him, pressing closely against his right side, “Have you heard of a grenade?”

\---:::---

The boys – Harry, Ron, Neville, Blaise, and Draco – met outside of the Great Hall before entering for breakfast. Harry had spent a lonely night alone in his bed, so that he could hang out with his Gryffindor friends for the last night before his suspension. Hermione cavorted around the common room beneath a cloud of self-satisfaction and had little to say to Harry and Ron which suited both of them just fine. Ron was still angry and hurt by her callous remarks the other day in the Great Hall.

Ama had been a big hit with the younger years in the tower, racing around in her kitten form and tumbling about. Harry figured that she was just happy to be out and about with humans again, especially children. 

She was more reserved this morning though as they made their way down to breakfast, and her mood was turning sourer with every step as she hissed as the passerby and stalked at Harry’s side in her adult black cat form. Her dour mood most likely stemmed from the Headmaster who had met them halfway down the revolving staircases. 

“Good you are all here,” Dumbledore said, speaking for the first time that morning. “I am afraid, boys, that you will not have time to dine with your houses this morning. I feel it will be best to disturb the others as little as possible and for you all to leave immediately.” 

“You let us walk all of the way here knowing-”

Harry held out an arm, stopping Ron before he needlessly ended up in detention with Filch. 

“That is fine Headmaster, but we need someone to retrieve our things as we were under the impression that we could eat breakfast before our departure,” Blaise said, stepping up to Harry’s side.

Draco nodded, “And someone needs to inform Professor Snape. Harry’s _guest_ was supposed to come with us, but he is still sleeping at the moment.”

“It has all been taken care of I assure you,” the man nodded. 

Harry turned to Ron, “I’ll see you in two months, yeah?” 

Ron frowned and nodded, looking like the saddest puppy. He stepped forward and hugged Harry quickly. 

Harry smiled and turned to Neville, “Keep him out of trouble will you?” 

“It should be fairly easy with you out of the picture,” the boy responded good-naturedly. “I will owl you about our project,” he said to Draco. They’d worked through the details for finishing it last night, and it should be fairly simple since they’d managed to finish majority of it ahead of time. 

Ama hissed at Dumbledore and swatted at his brightly colored robes as he strode by her. “That is the most peculiar animal you returned with Harry,” he frowned down at her. He wasn’t quite sure what he wanted done with the cat. The bylaws in the Hogwarts charter said that all felines were acceptable as long as they were under control and closely bonded to their master as a familiar, but they tried to keep the students limited to small housecats. He couldn’t rightly order it off of the premises, but he was very leery of the creature. 

As they reached the gates, Dumbledore was joined by Professor McGonagall and Hagrid, holding the gate keys. “’Ere you are ‘Eadmaster,” the half giant said, gazing sadly at Harry.

“Thank you Hagrid,” the man smiled, retrieving the keys and unlocking the gates. “Now, I have taken the liberty of contacting your parents and guardians. Mr. Malfoy, I was unable to reach your parents, but Severus has assured me, as your godfather, that you may return with Mr. Zabini to his home and reside there should his mother be amenable.”

“That will be fine,” Blaise said curtly. They had already spoken about this and made arrangements the day prior. Draco spent a lot of time with him, and he knew that his mother wouldn’t have a problem with him staying with them for a spell. 

“Wonderful. Now, Harry here is a portkey I had commissioned through the Ministry. It will take you to King’s Cross where your relatives will be waiting to take you home.” 

“Oh,” the Gryffindor said quietly and contritely as if he actually felt bad for having the Headmaster go out of his way for his benefit, “I really wish you would have told me before you’d gone through all of that trouble.” 

The Headmaster smiled a little still holding the portkey for Potter to grab, “It was no trouble at all my boy. I-”

Harry shook his head, “You don’t seem to understand,” he said in a steely voice. “I was not joking nor am I wavering in my conviction that I will never step foot in that house ever again.” 

Dumbledore set his mouth and scowled. “Now see here, Harry. You have no place else to go; Grimmauld is in no condition to house you at the moment regardless of Kreacher’s work. That house requires a team of elves to have it ready by the term’s end.” 

Harry rolled his eyes. There was no way the Headmaster could know that for sure. 

“I assure you, Headmaster,” Blaise cut in, “Harry has a place to go during our suspension and any other time after that.”

“With you?” the old man scoffed. “I will not have Harry going with-”

“I am afraid you have no say in the matter,” Sirius spat, panting as he – mostly carried by Severus and Bill – reached the teens and professors at the gates. “I am Harry’s magical guardian, and while I allowed you to make majority of the decisions regarding his life since my escape, I refuse to do so any longer. Harry will not be going back to those muggles, and this is the end of it. I do not want to hear about it any longer.” By the end of his tirade, Lord Black was nearly gray, but that didn’t matter in the least. With his dying breath, he would fight for Harry no matter how small the issue. 

“Are you alright, Pads,” Harry asked, completely switching gears with worry lining his face. 

“He will be fine Potter as soon as we get him out of the elements and into a bed so that he can rest,” Severus spoke. 

“I must agree,” Madame Pomfrey interjected, appearing from seemingly nowhere to stand beside Bill, hovering around the ill man as if she were in orbit around him. 

“Just where are you planning to take him, and William I thought I ordered you out of the castle,” Dumbledore scowled at the man. Bill had always been one of his favorite students, but he was in the center of the mess conducted on Hogwarts grounds, and Dumbledore just couldn’t overlook the blatant disregard of his authority. 

Bill tipped his head, “I am leaving now. I just came to help with him,” he tilted his head toward Sirius. 

“Very well,” he waved his hands, “be on your way…all of you,” he said exasperatedly, clearly exhausted by this entire ordeal. “Severus, I expect you back before classes begin today.”

Severus nodded curtly, but didn’t deign to respond to that order. They separated into two groups, and Bill and Severus apparated them all to Zabini Manor.

\---:::---

Harry stood his ground as he landed in front of Blaise’s home just inside of the gates. The manor was nothing short of spectacular, not that Harry expected anything less. There were three towers spread out along the manor house with tall, dramatic spires. It looked very gothic, but still maintained a bright, welcoming air. Ivy was growing artfully along the walls, giving the ancient building character.

Awaiting their arrival was more than likely Blaise’s mother and Lord Malfoy and his wife, standing just before the heavy front doors. Three Hogwarts elves popped just behind the group with the students’ trunks.

Severus began to walk forward. “Come along.”

Harry turned to grab his trunk, but Blaise tugged him away, “Do not worry about those. Our elves will see to them.” 

Harry nodded and followed along behind the others. He was slightly startled when Rabastan apparated near them, but he just smiled at the man and continued until they were all standing before the Zabini Matron.

She looked every bit as poised and stately as Lady Malfoy until she cocked her hip and threw a hand on it, “So you have finally gone and gotten yourself kicked out of school, eh?” She grinned at her son. 

Harry stood and gawked at the woman; he wasn’t sure what to make of her, and he had the strangest feeling of wanting to apologize for dragging her son into this mess and getting him suspended, and at the same time he felt she would just laugh in his face if he did. She reminded him a lot of Ama: calm and collected but fun and playful. 

She reminded him of Ama, but he could see much of her son in her countenance; she had the same blanket of onyx hair that Harry loved to run his hand through. It had the same natural curl to it that Blaise possessed, and she had it tied loosely at the back. It was layered, leaving varying lengths hanging fetchingly in her face. The dark tresses were a natural contrast to her beautiful unblemished mocha skin tone.

“I guess I cannot be too angry since my son is so taken with you. I did many crazy things for his father you know, when I first met him. Although I daresay he was the more reckless one,” she sighed.

Blaise moved forward and embraced his mother, “It is wonderful to see you mother.” 

She smiled up at her son who was taller than her by a few inches, “And, I you, my son. However, I did not expect to have you return so soon and with such a large crowd.” 

“Harry Potter,” she finally addressed the Gryffindor formally. The boy swallowed thickly. “I have heard much about you in Blaise’s letters.” 

“Harry, Bill, I would like to present my mother, Lady Bahiti Zabini.” 

“It’s great to finally meet you,” Harry said, bowing politely along with Bill and kissing the woman’s outstretched hand. “Thank you for sharing your home with us.” 

She waved him away, “Nonsense, I would not have seen my son the entire time he was suspended if I turned you away,” she laughed. “It seems you have bewitched him entirely.” 

Harry blushed and shifted back and forth. 

“Mother,” Blaise chastised. “Stop tormenting, Harry. I want him to like me.”

“Based on that adorable expression, I would say you have largely succeeded,” she laughed aloud.

Blaise groaned and rocked backwards on his heels, “I want him to like you too, Mother.”

“This is a wonderful reunion,” Severus drawled interrupting their playful bickering, “but might we move this into the house, so I may settle him into bed.”

“Of course, right this way,” Lady Zabini said. “It seems that we have a busy day ahead of us. The more pressing matters we will take care of first. Then we will have a nice long chat over lunch,” she said, eyeing her son intently. It was time she learned the full details of the circumstances that brought this motley group to her home.

\---:::---

Lady Bahiti directed everyone into her domain. Rabastan, Severus and the Malfoys followed along quietly as did Draco as they were familiar with the manor. Harry and the others on the other hand were glancing from left to right constantly, trying to take in every fine fixture and portrait. The wealth of the place was a little daunting, but the Gryffindor appreciated the simple sophistication.

“Do you like my home,” Blaise whispered into Harry ear. 

Harry smiled, “I haven’t seen much of it, but it’s very nice,” he commented. 

Blaise nodded, pleased. “I will show you around later.”

“Here we are,” Bahiti said, opening the door to a very stately room. Severus pressed by her and maneuvered Sirius into the bed, followed by Harry who helped to settle his godfather. 

“How are you feeling,” Harry asked. 

“Better now that I am off of my feet,” Sirius smiled. “I’ll be glad once my strength has returned. Then I can fly out with you. I hear that all of these great manors have quiddich pitches on their grounds.”

Harry laughed. “You have a one track mind, Siri.”

“That is for certain,” Severus drawled, organizing several potions on Sirius’ bedside table. Standing straight again he glanced at Sirius with a disconcerted expression. “I must return to the castle now. There is a schedule of potions for the mutt,” he said to Harry and the room at large. “The schedule is extremely regimented and must be followed to my exact orders. I will return upon the conclusion of the day’s classes.” 

“He’s such a worry wart,” Sirius snickered.

Severus scowled and rolled his eyes, “Just do as I say,” he growled. 

“Yes, love,” Sirius teased. A light crimson dusted Severus’ face as he turned and stormed from the room, muttering about insufferable mutts and damnable Gryffindors. 

“I believe we should leave my cousin to sleep,” Narcissa suggested, directing everyone out of the room. She smiled sweetly at him as she left. As of yet, neither Narcissa nor Lucius had had the opportunity to greet the animagus, and she was looking forward to reconnecting with him in the near future. Family was family after all, and once she was free to do as she pleased without fear of the Dark Lord she could reach out to her fallen sister as well.

Harry bent over and placed a light kiss to Sirius’ cheek. “Sleep well, Pads.” 

Sirius smiled and grabbed Harry’s hand, waiting for everyone else to exit. “I think it’s a good thing what you are doing for Draco and his parents. Over the years, I have learned that Blacks must always stick together, Harry. The Malfoys are our last remaining extended family. If they ask it of us, we are meant to help them. You cannot imagine how proud I am of you.” 

“Thank you Siri,” Harry smiled. “It is alright then, if I use the Black holdings as the basis for their sanctuary? I don’t have access to the Potter inheritance as of yet, but through you as your heir and godson I can offer them the sanctuary of myself and the Black legacy.”

Harry grabbed his wand and summoned a blood quill and the contract he’d drafted with Blaise and Draco. 

“Of course, I would have it no other way,” Sirius said, quickly beginning to tire. He accepted the quill and signed his name alongside Harry’s giving him as his heir the ability to grant sanctuary.

“Thank you,” Harry said as he quietly exited the room to find Blaise waiting for him, leaning against the wall. 

“Are you ready?” Blaise asked. “I understand that the others are quite impatient, though they won’t say a word. I believe the Dark Lord is punishing them through the mark.” 

“I’m ready,” Harry said, holding up the contract, “but I can’t promise that my sanctuary will do anything to alleviate the pain they feel from the mark. I can only hope.”

Harry followed Blaise into a large receiving room that had been cleared for their use. He wasn’t sure what this might entail, but he’d memorized the oaths he was to give. 

“Harry,” Draco said, stepping forward. “Did Sirius sign it?” 

“Yes, it’s up to you guys now,” Harry said handing it over. 

Lucius, Narcissa, and Rabastan signed the parchment with the blood quill without any hesitation barely reading the terms although they were fairly generic, pledging their loyalty and allegiance to Harry in return for his protection as both the future Lord Potter and Black heir. 

“Alright, let us begin,” Harry said. He stood before all of the Malfoys and Rabastan. Bill, Lady Zabini, and Blaise – holding Ama in his arms – flanked him as witnesses. Soon Blaise could feel the familiar sensation of Harry’s magic filling the room. 

Much like the fidelius charm, the Gryffindor’s magic wrapped around and surrounded the Malfoys and Rabastan, enshrouding them completely from Voldemort’s seeking eye. Unless they came face to face with the Dark Lord, Tom couldn’t reach them, through the dark mark or otherwise. The sanctuary of Harry’s magic smothered them in a blanket that provided more security and peace of mind than they had felt in a very long time. They hadn’t realized just how insecure they had been feeling when the burning of the mark cooled and a weight lifted from their shoulders.

Lucius looked down into Harry’s face with awe and profound gratitude; the boy was panting and lilting over from the drain on his magic. Lord Malfoy kneeled before Harry ceremoniously and grasped the boy’s hand, recalling his attention to himself and his family. “Whatever you need, whatever you would ask of myself or my family is yours to have,” he intoned solemnly. 

This magnitude of safety and confidence he felt in Harry – Lucius knew – is what his grandfather had sought for his family under the Dark Lord, but he was gravely mistaken, and the Dark Lord had betrayed his trust. Beneath a true lord there was no fear, only unshakable faith and affection; under a true lord, man was meant to feel as he did now as he knelt before Harry of his own freewill. A true lord engendered irrevocable loyalty, and Lucius could already feel it building within him for the little slip of a boy before him. 

The Malfoys were once, hundreds of years ago, favored knights to the king before the separation between muggles and magical folk. For years since the last magical king and the split between the muggles and wizards, the Malfoys and many of the old wizarding families – the Blacks, Lestranges, Weasleys, Greengrasses, and Longbottoms to name a few – have been knights without a master which is why his grandfather was persuaded to follow the Dark Lord. He believed in their ideals, and deep down in places no one ever spoke of, the wizards on a tiny level resented the muggles for claiming their king, leaving them essentially leaderless. That is why those of the light professed unparalleled devotion to Dumbledore and his cause, and Dark Lords as they arose never found themselves short of followers. 

Of course, there were other more current and pressing reasons wizards disdained and on some levels feared muggles, but this was chief among the original reasons for the bitterness they held for muggles. Malfoy knew the history, and he was feeling the effects of it firsthand right now. It was engrained in this blood, his magic, and he finally understood what his grandfather was seeking all those years ago. He had cursed the man time and again after he inherited his grandfather’s place in the Dark Lord’s army, but the pursuit of this feeling is a strong draw, and he could understand, now, the hold the young Tom Riddle may have had on his ancestor. 

They felt so much resilience and faith – in them and their intentions – through Harry’s magic. There were no underlining deceptions or manipulations, just Harry’s desire to shield and protect them. Despite all of their previous faults, Harry saw only their aid in rescuing his godfather and their potential for decency, placing all of his trust in that.

His wife kneeled with him, followed by Rabastan and Draco, “You cannot fathom what you have done for our family. I did not know what to expect, but you have gifted us with salvation and a balm to our hearts that we never knew we needed,” Narcissa said, surprising many in the room.

Harry stood a little straighter and lifted them each from the ground with a smile. “You have no need to bow or kneel to me. We are equals and friends with the same goal in mind.”

Draco felt momentarily overcome and gave Harry a heartfelt hug, squeezing him tightly. “Thank you,” he whispered. The last few months had been great in comparison to the previous summer and the start of the year, but now that the contract was complete he felt as he never had before…as if Harry had given him a new lease on life and the freedom to act as a young man his age should. Lifelong pressures he’d long ago become accustomed to left him under Harry’s care, and he now realized how this boy, slightly younger than him, could instill such faith and confidence in others. 

Harry smiled tiredly and wrapped his arms around Draco in return, “You helped me, and I wanted to reciprocate. I’ll do anything for my friends and loved ones, Draco. That number now includes you; in fact, it has for many weeks now.”

The Malfoy heir was lost for words, so he simply clutched Harry tighter until they were separated by Bill and Blaise. 

“I am taking him to rest before lunch today,” Zabini told the others and pulled Harry close to his body, supporting much of his weight as he towed him to his rooms, “You had better not be falling into another magical coma,” he growled into the Gryffindor’s ear.

Harry chuckled, his breath just a wisp of air against Blaise’s neck. The Slytherin clutched Harry’s lithe form tighter as he made his way through the large corridors. Releasing Harry as he reached his room, Blaise pressed Harry against his closed door, invading his personal space.

He pressed his lips to Harry’s lightly and mumbled, “That was amazing. You are amazing, Harry,” he whispered, running his hands lightly over any bare skin he could find and pressing his nose into Harry’s neck. 

“We should be resting,” Blaise continued to mumble as he rubbed himself against Harry’s slighter, warm body. 

“Um hm,” Harry agreed, wrapping his arms around Blaise’s neck and tangling his hands in the Slytherin’s dark, silky hair. “Resting…and then going down to join everyone for lunch.”

Blaise’s hands moved to Harry’s hips, holding them tightly. After Harry thrust his pelvis forward against him, Zabini needed no further invitations to enjoy Harry’s body. Despite what they were saying, neither had any intention of separating. Blaise’s lips attacked Harry’s neck and chest while is hands pushed underneath Harry’s shirt and caressed his skin.

“I missed you last night,” Blaise murmured against Harry’s skin. 

Harry chuckled, “It was just one night.” 

Zabini slid his hands down to Harry’s pert bum and squeezed tightly, “Yes, one too many.”

Harry groaned and canted his hips more urgently against Blaise. He whimpered when the Slytherin stepped back and away from him with a wicked grin. 

 

Harry looked up at Blaise with heavily lidded eyes and flushed cheeks. He wanted Blaise so badly, and his smoldering eyes were doing interesting things to Harry’s loins that had his pants tightening even more uncomfortably. 

Blaise ripped his shirt off, and Harry’s followed not too long after. They worked frantically at the buttons and zips of each others' pants, pulling and tugging until their bulging erections were free. Blaise was tempted to grab Harry and take him against the wall, but he didn’t want to hurt him against the tough carved wood. He turned abruptly and walked towards the bed. 

Harry sagged slightly against the door and admired Blaise’s sexy visage with his pants sagging low on his hips. He followed his graceful catlike lover hurriedly, nearly tripping over his pant legs.

Blaise sat back on the king sized bed and settled himself against the pillows and headboard. He licked his lips and arousal clouded his eyes as Harry climbed on top of him with his pants unbuttoned and unzipped, his cockhead peeking out, and no shirt on. As Harry settled on top of him and placed his hands on Blaise’s bare shoulders; Blaise grabbed Harry’s pert arse and forcefully pulled their groins together. 

“Ah,” Harry moaned loudly and involuntarily thrust his hips against Blaise’s. 

“Damn it, Harry,” Blaise huffed, clenching Harry’s arse and pulling him closer, as close as he could while lifting his hips up into Harry. “I want to be inside you so bad,” he grunted, shivers running up his spine as the head of his cock came in contact with Harry’s. 

Blaise loved Harry; he knew that, and at any given time of the day he was ready and willing to press Harry into a secluded alcove and have his way with him. But, seeing the Malfoys kneeling before Harry had ignited Blaise’s lust for Harry like never before; he was a Slytherin after all, and he admired power. Having Harry relinquish that power and lay it at his feet, by giving him his trust, his regard, and his body…it drove Blaise insane with hunger.

Harry hissed and dropped his head against Blaise’s shoulder, sucking and nipping at it to try and keep his voice down. All the while he kept pace with Blaise’s hands and thrust down onto him vigorously. 

“You do not have to quiet your voice, Harry,” Blaise panted. “We are quite alone in this part of the manor; I want to hear you.”

Harry groaned and continued to kiss across Blaise’s collarbone and down his chest until he slid down the bed and slipped his fingers under the edges of Blaise’s slacks, hooking them at the hips. He looked up at Blaise while he pecked kisses around his bellybutton and lower down to his groin. 

Blaise swallowed thickly and couldn’t tear his eyes away from Harry’s sultry expression. There wasn’t much in this world sexier than Harry’s mouth hovering over his erection. Blaise groaned and, against his will, his eyes closed as Harry licked the slit on his head. He struggled against the desire to thrust his cock deep into Harry’s mouth. 

“Shit,” he grit his teeth and raised his hips as Harry shimmied his pants down and threw them on the floor before – without warning – he swallowed Blaise’s cock whole, deep-throating it. Harry swallowed around it making sparks light across Blaise’s brain and spine simultaneously, making him buck off the bed involuntarily. Harry had become so good at this in such a short time, Blaise thought, sliding a guiding hand into Harry hair.

Harry bobbed his head up and down and swirled his tongue around Blaise’s cockhead, giving it a good lashing. He reached a hand up and grabbed his own erection and pumped it in time with his head, sucking and slurping Blaise like a sweet lollipop. He moaned from the sensations of his clenching hand, sending jolts through his lover. When Blaise began to make tiny thrusts into his mouth, Harry lifted his head and stood up off the bed. Blaise groaned in negation. 

Harry took his trousers and underwear off and then climbed back onto the bed over Blaise who had a really smug look on his face. Harry reached over into the nightstand drawer and pulled out the pot of lube he’d stashed there when they arrived earlier in the morning. He didn’t think they would actually do anything, but damn was he glad that he’d come prepared now. He put some on his fingers and leaned up on his knees, pressing two of them into him. 

Normally, Blaise did this for him, but Harry was feeling particularly impatient today, and Blaise preferred to take his time while preparing Harry. 

He closed his eyes and moaned; rocking back and forth onto his fingers, shivers racked his body.  
Blaise’s breath hitched and his cock throbbed, precum squeezing out of the head as he watched the show. “So sexy Harry,” he groaned. He reached up and ran his hands up and down Harry’s sides before he leaned forward and latched onto Harry’s throat. He grabbed Harry’s hair and tugged his head down, kissing him deeply and taking his breath away. Harry tore his head away with a gasp and moan. Blaise looked to the right and found the lube. He lubed both hands and grabbed Harry’s cock with one before pressing two more fingers into Harry’s slick clenching hole.

Harry gasped and groaned, “Unnn, Blaise.” 

Blaise pressed his fingers back and forth while Harry’s walls trembled around him. He latched onto one of Harry’s nipples, and Harry nearly shot his load right then. “Blaise,” he groaned, removing his fingers and grabbing both of Blaise’s shoulders. “Now,” he begged, inching forward towards Blaise’s cock. 

Blaise removed his fingers as well and placed his hands on Harry’s hips before lowering him onto his member. The trip all the way down Blaise’s cock had them both groaning and moaning. “Yes,” Blaise hissed, pressing up into Harry. “Ride me,” he urged Harry, sliding his hands around and squeezing his cheeks. 

Harry was happy to oblige and began to lift himself off of Blaise’s erection, establishing a quick steady pace. He threw his head back and bounced up and down. “Blaise,” he huffed, looking down at his lover, “I can’t; it’s-”.

Blaise understood immediately and flipped Harry over, thrusting into him hard. 

“Oh Merlin, yes,” Harry yelled, wrapping his legs around Blaise’s waist and lifting himself up into Blaise’s punishing thrusts. 

Single strands of Blaise’s hair pasted to his head because of the light sheen of sweat coating him. “You’re so tight Harry; you feel so good,” he grunted, compelled to speak as he increased the pace.

“Faster, harder,” Harry demanded, digging his nails into Blaise’s back as his lover pummeled his prostate. His cock was pressed between their bodies and the sensations were roiling through him pleasantly. The pleasure was taking them both over, crashing over them and rocketing them towards orgasm. With a yell, Harry came between them, his body trembling and shivering beneath Blaise. 

The sight of his intended enraptured beneath him as well as his clenching and quivering walls around his cock pushed Blaise over the edge, and he came inside his lover before collapsing beside him huffing, his chest rising and falling rapidly. It took all of his remaining energy to turn his head and grin at his boneless lover before pecking a kiss on his nose. Harry scrunched it up just the way Blaise liked, making him smile even wider although Harry’s eyes were shut too tightly to see it. Pleasurable tingles were still traveling through his body in waves and he wanted to ride them out. 

Ten minutes later he asked, “If we sleep for a couple of hours, think we have time for a shower after?”

“If we share it,” Blaise smirked. 

“We’re already pushing it as it is,” Harry laughed.

“I will try to be good,” Blaise said, leaning over Harry, pushing his black hair out of his lover’s eyes, “but I cannot make any promises.”

\---:::---

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **A/N: Wow, I have no idea where that Fred, George, and Rabastan part came from. I knew I wanted them to incorporate some magical technology for them to use later in the story, but it wasn’t supposed to be so doom and gloom. It just came out that way. Don’t worry though this story will absolutely not have a second war with psycho magical scientists at least not at this point. Maybe if there’s a sequel to this story in the future that could be a nice original plot, but for now we’re only worried about the Newts in a year and vanquishing the one Dark Lord.**
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> **But, now that I’ve mentioned it would anyone be interested in a series kind of thing with another part taking place like a few years after this story ends. It’s just an errant idea that popped up when I wrote this chapter, so let me what you guys think. I’m solely focused on this fic, and I won’t be starting another before it’s complete, but some ideas have been popping up for different fics and now a possible continuation. As for the new ideas I was toying with a male harem for Harry story. I like some of those, but it probably wouldn’t be a magical creature story. I’d come up with something a little different I think, probably really AU, but everyone would still have the same personalities. I mean that’s why we like them right. Also, Blaise would definitely be a major player with Harry in any fic I right, harem or otherwise. I’m toying with some Alien!Harry ideas. I’ve never read or seen one of those, but I read some awesome alien fics with other fandoms and some original characters, and I think it might be awesome! Everyone would still be their awesome sexy selves, but with some added things, no tentacles…not a huge fan of that at all. Anyways, I’m getting a little carried away. It’s just an idea, so let me know if you guys might be interested in something like that.**
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> **I’ve also been thinking of maybe a cross-over fic, but that one’s low on the list. Anyway, here’s the long-awaited chapter. I hope you all enjoyed it. I’m sorry it’s so late in the making. As I briefly mentioned before the craziest crap has delayed me, the likes of which I never want to think about again let alone mention aloud or well…digitally lolz.**
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> **Also, I can’t remember if it was Abraxas Malfoy, Lucius’ father, who first joined the Dark Lord or if it was Lucius’ grandfather, but I’m making it his grandfather because I liked Abraxus, so basically Lucius and Abraxas inherited their position as the Dark Lord’s right hand man. Also, I’m not trying to make Harry the next lord of the wizards or king or anything. This just provides a basis for the Malfoys and Rabastan’s new loyalty to Harry, and it also explains the purebloods willingness to follow blindly both Dumbledore and the Dark Lord.**
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> **And this is the last thing – sorry it’s such a long author’s note it’s just that a lot happens when I can’t update – I’ve created a tumblr for my HPfiction. It’s: harry-slash-x-pert.tumblr.com. I plan to start posting updates on how things are going in between updates to avoid long author’s notes like these. I also hope to use it as a sounding board for ideas for future fics. Um, also, I was kind of hoping I could commission some Blaise/Harry fanart through it because there’s like none! And, I think this pairing needs at least a few. So, feel free to stop by and pester me (please) for updates when I’m behind. It’ll help me stay on track or to add ideas you have that I can consider or to just drop me a line. :)**
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> **Also, Bahiti – according to an Egyptian name site – means fortune which I though fitting for Lady Zabini she’s had good fortune by having Blaise and her wealth, but bad in that she lost the love of her life tragically, and has had a string of loveless romances ever since. The recipient of good and bad fortune…that’s my Lady Zabini.**
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> **I think that’s all. Please read and review! Thanks!**
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> **P.S. **KIND OF SPOILER ALERT!** Remus and Tonks, for those you who mentioned them in your comments, will finally be making their appearances in the next chapter, so I hope you guys look forward to that.**


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **A/N: Hey guys, here’s the long awaited chapter 17. I first want to say THANK YOU, THANK YOU to everyone who’s stuck with this fic and sent me encouraging messages/comments. Also I want to say happy belated birthday to golden_dragon_luvr. I wanted to get this chapter out by Friday for your birthday, but it needed a bit more work than I had originally thought when I was trying to get all of the parts put together. Normally I write everything together in one word document in pretty much sequential order. This time, I had to write when I had a spare moment and it was just whatever sort of struck my fancy or inspired me. Some of the sections I ended up cutting out of this chapter all together (saving them for chapter 18), so it’s a bit shorter than I’d originally outlined. Putting all of those separate parts together was more difficult than I’d originally imagined it would be. I’m still not quite sure this method was a success, so please let me know what you think.**
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> **Also, I want to warn you all that the POV changes a lot in this chapter, so much so that it might make your head spin lol. Just a heads up. I do separate each section very clearly as usual, so it shouldn’t be confusing but let me know. It’s not much different (if at all from my usual style).**
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> **I won’t go into why I was so late because you all should know from my last author’s note. But, I do apologize that I was pretty much 2.5 hours late and its technically Sunday morning. At least the chapter is here and ready to go. Please enjoy it and let me know what you guys think at the end. Read and Review please! ******

 

**Chapter 17**

Remus stared down at the letter in his hand, scarcely willing to believe it. According to this letter, Sirius was alive, rescued from yet another hell hole by his godson, Harry.  
The werewolf looked up again at the exhausted owl who had traveled all of the way to the continent to find him. If it were any other bird, the man wouldn’t believe the letter’s contents held truth. In fact, he was have most certainly burned it and cursed its writer for a cowardly scoundrel who only wanted to trap and hurt him.

As it were, he knew that Hedwig was much too clever to have been intercepted by anyone with ill intentions. She guarded her master’s missives with tenacity and pride. With a shriek in his face, Hedwig swooped down from the rafters of the Spanish cathedral Remus had chosen as his temporary abode, having had difficulty finding lodgings after the last full moon.

He’d done well with hiding his curse for the last few months on the Continent, but everyone’s luck – except for Sirius’ it seemed – had to run out sometime. Severus had been kind enough to supply him with enough wolfsbane potion for the year, so Remus was fully in control of his wolf. However, he had been seen going into an abandoned shack this month and then Moony had emerged just hours later.

The entire town had been petrified of him on the morn, and he was surprised that they hadn’t ran him out of town with pitchforks. Instead, they had merely shunned and ignored him until he took the hint and moved along on his way. It was exhausting and disheartening to be uprooted thusly so repeatedly, and Remus hated these godforsaken missions Dumbledore always sent him on.

There was little to tend to in Britain though, so he never had a valid reason to refuse other than that this mission was as futile as the others had been previously. Locating rogue werewolves that weren’t in a pack was as difficult for Remus as it was for Hagrid to be quiet and inconspicuous in a china shop. Rogue werewolves were usually loners for a reason. They didn’t work well with others, and had no desire to travel to Britain to fight the Dark Lord or affiliate themselves with Dumbledore. Despite what ignorant people might think, the old man had done little to nothing for werewolves. It was only Remus’ personal vendetta and his love for Harry that kept him close to Dumbledore and the conflict in Britain. He truly did want to do everything in his power to help vanquish Voldemort once and for all. That evil dark lord had taken everything from him, so searching night and day for werewolves with little money and often no shelter beyond tree canopies, Remus pressed on.

However, this letter gave him hope and a new resolve to return home. Sirius was alive. That thought filled him with such joy and such shame. He had once again failed his friend, given up on him at the first sign of adversity. Remus never doubted that Sirius was truly dead after he fell into the veil. He never doubted his own understanding of the veil or Dumbledore’s assurances that nothing could be done. Just as he had forsaken Sirius during his banishment to Azkaban, so too had he left him rotting behind the veil in a place he now knew to be called The Pit of Negation.

The story related to him by Harry was so farfetched that Remus couldn’t doubt its veracity. Harry would never make such a thing as a Goddess up. That was something Remus would certainly have to see for himself to believe. Nonetheless, no matter how it was achieve Remus can only be grateful to his pseudo-godson and love him even more for bringing back a member of his family and pack, small though it may be. He looked back down to the parchment in his hand and grinned as he read it again.

_Dear Remus,  
I have absolutely no idea where you are, so I trust that you will understand the urgency with which I am contacting you. I would never send Hedwig to deliver a message when I had no idea where it was going. I have no idea where she will have to travel to find you, only that I know she will. There’s no owl more clever or resourceful than my Hedwig. When she finds you, reward her well as you will rejoice at the new she bears. _

_Sirius is not dead. I have held this secret for much longer than I can bear. I feared, not in vain, that many would attempt to impede my rescue attempts. I was not mistaken. Sirius’ reception once he was restored to us was worse than I expected, but I am getting ahead of myself. To relieve you of any stress or suspense my godfather is now safe and sound with me. When I relate the news of the last few months to you, you will surely be skeptical, but be assured that this piece of information is nothing but the truth. I ask that you return to Britain to see for yourself. You are missed here Remus…_

Having read the opening of Harry’s letter numerous times before did nothing to hinder the swell of emotion that filled his chest at both the news of Sirius’ return and of Harry continued affection for him. It astounded Remus everyday just how forgiving that boy could be. In Remus’ mind he and others had let Harry down so many times, and yet the boy’s desire to surround himself with those that love him was too great to easily cut someone from his life. If that were to ever happen, that person could be assured of never regaining Harry’s favor. _His good opinion once lost is lost forever._

Remus packed the few things he still had with him, possessions he never wanted to leave behind when he left on a mission in fear that he would never see them again – a photo of his mother and father who had died in the first war and photos of his time at Hogwarts as a student. As for the map he carried around with the possible locations of rogue werewolves just trying to make their lives as best they could, he promptly burned it. It was bad enough that he disturbed their lives. He would no longer help anyone else do so either.

With his camp properly disposed of, he apparated away, beginning the long trek home to the forefront of the war and to his family.

 

\---:::---

Back in Britain, Harry walked through Zabini manor slowly by himself, one of the few moments he’d been left to his own devices in the few weeks he’d been here since his suspension. He rounded a corner and sighed at the unfamiliar cavernous hallway. The fact that he was on his own and had been for the last forty-five minutes had little to do with any desire to be alone and more to do with the fact that he was hopelessly lost. He’d snuck away from everyone shortly after lunch to read a letter he’d received from Ron that morning. As far as he could tell, he hadn’t gone very far from the large sitting room they’d all been gathered in, but he must have wandered further as he read than he’d originally intended.

Harry abruptly turned right again only to sigh even heavier at the unfamiliarity of the décor. He was of half a mind to summon a house elf to rescue him, but he couldn’t remember their names, and the elves had enough self-respect and common sense not answer to summons of ‘hey elf, come help me because I’m lost.’ Furthermore, Harry had more appreciation for the little elves to speak them as such in any case, so it was a moot point.

“Whoever said that taking four rights in a row will deliver you to your starting point should be shot dead,” Harry grumbled, collapsing onto a well-placed and timely bench on his left because all of this walking and getting nowhere was becoming a bit discouraging. His only recourse was to wait for someone to miss him, likely Blaise, Lucius, or Rabastan. Sirius was well out of danger of dying now, especially with Severus’ diligent care, but he was still mostly on bed rest, only getting up twice a day for exercise. Mostly, his godfather spent the days sleeping. Draco was too preoccupied with his budding relationship with Bill to notice much of anything that wasn’t related to the redhead, so he wasn’t likely to notice his absence either.

The Gryffindor had hope in Lucius and Rabastan though because ever since he’d granted them sanctuary they’d both taken more of an interest in him and his comfort and wellbeing. As Slytherins and refined individuals they weren’t overly solicitous by any stretch of the imagination. However, they were always ready to be of use to Harry. He wanted to believe that it was just gratitude and that it would wear off soon enough, but Harry knew that their behavior stemmed from more than that. Both men were eager to mentor and teach Harry where they hadn’t been nearly as concerned before. It felt like in addition to Sirius and in recent months Severus as well, Harry had received two more adult male figures in his life. Lucius and Rabastan had not adopted a fatherly role, but something was certainly different. Harry felt safe in their presence as he only had with his friends, the Weasley’s, Sirius and Remus, and Blaise before. And, he felt that they felt that way too. The dynamics of his relationship with them was such that he’d never experienced before, so he had no idea how to quantify or describe it.

Sitting with his head thrown back against the wall, Harry imagined that his fingers were tingling because of his prolonged distance from Blaise. Maybe they actually were, but Harry doubted it. They’d long since had the bond under control. It was just their own personal preferences that kept Blaise and Harry practically attached at the hip, constantly – though mostly unconsciously – in physical contact with each other.

Harry sighed and fished out the letter from Ron to read for a second time since he had nothing but time on his hands to wait for his rescue. Blaise would find him soon enough; of that Harry had no doubt, and if he didn’t Harry would just swallow his pride and summon Kreacher to help him.

Unfolding the parchment, Harry read the letter through a second time, smiling at Ron’s sloppy scrawl.

_Dear Harry,_

_It’s only been a couple of weeks since you left, and already I can tell the difference. Hermione is acting like even more of a smug git the longer you’re gone. She thinks that some time away from the Slytherins will return you to your senses. I have half a mind to tell her where you are just so she’ll shut her gob. She’s insufferable, and although I spend plenty of time with Neville, Seamus, and Dean it’s not the same, being at the castle when you’re not. It’s much too odd._

_I’ve been spending a lot of time by myself lately, thinking, thinking about everything you’ve been trying to show me, and I think I understand it a little bit better now. I know that you don’t have it all worked out just yet either, but there’s something wrong with our world Harry, and it goes beyond You-Know-Who. It must. The more I think about it; the more I hate Binns. Maybe if he were a better history teacher we could figure out where we keep going wrong to give rise to these Dark Lords and all of the tension amongst ourselves. There aren’t many wizards and witches in the world, and sure we’ll never all get along, but we have to be able to work together to maintain our ways of life, and the discrimination against muggleborns isn’t the only separation I’m thinking of. You pointed out very clearly, and I’m embarrassed to think of it – my own bigoted ways against the Slytherins and purebloods, Ultimately, nothing is ever going to change even after the Dark Lord is gone if we can’t change ourselves._

_You’re going to laugh and definitely not believe me, but I’ve been spending time in the library looking up wizarding history, and you won’t believe what I’ve found. Years ago before separation of the wizards and muggles the king of England was a Wizard and he could…_

“Harry!”

Harry jerked his head up and grinned. _Blaise._

“I have been looking all over for you, and here you are reading a letter,” the Slytherin huffed with a frown. “Lucius and Rabastan have been searching for you too you know-”

Harry smiled and reached out to touch Blaise’s crossed arms, “Don’t be angry with me. I just got lost, and the more I tried to find my way the worse the situation became.”

Blaise sighed and pulled Harry into a warm hug, “I am not cross Harry; I was worried you dolt.”

Harry grinned and hooked his arm through Blaise’s as the boy led him through the manor, “What could possibly happen to me inside of your home Blaise?”

The Slytherin rolled his eyes, “For the average guest, nothing, but with you I dare not even speculate.”

Harry laughed again, “How’d you find me anyway?”

Blaise shrugged, “The way I normally find you when you are lost.”

Harry arched an eyebrow, “Blaise,” he said slowly, “we’ve hardly been apart for months, literally. You’ve never needed to actually _find_ me.”

“Alright, alright,” the Slytherin conceded. “Ama followed her nose, and once we rounded the corner she ran away. I think she is afraid you are going to ask her to transform again.”

Harry sighed, “I don’t know why she refuses. We need her help, and now is the perfect time to research horcruxes. We have all of this time; we should put it to use somehow.”

Blaise smirked and tugged Harry abruptly into a side door well-disguised as a regular wall panel.

“What are you doing,” Harry gasped a little lightheaded from the spin as his back hit a low shelf behind him. They were obviously in a small closet for coats and hats.

“I can think of many things to do with our free time, Harry,” Blaise grinned dangerously, grabbing Harry’s hips and lifting him up and onto the shelf.

“You’re insatiable,” Harry laughed. It never took much to put the Slytherin in the mood.

“Mm,” Blaise hummed, nosing at Harry’s neck, licking and marking the bare skin there. “Draco tried to warn you.”

“I should have listened,” Harry said, pushing Blaise backwards a little to tug the Slytherin’s light indoor robes from his shoulders.

Harry grunted as he was pushed forcefully back into the rear wall of the closet. He wrapped himself around Blaise’s torso as the Slytherin shushed him for a third time, “We could just cast a simple silencing charm,” Harry whispered, attacking Blaise’s neck wherever he could reach.

Blaise fumbled with Harry’s belt buckle, “It is more fun this way,” he assured the smaller boy, pressing two fingers into Harry’s mouth and sliding a hand down Harry’s pants to palm his growing erection.

Harry bit down on Blaise’s fingers and threw his head back with a groan. He opened his eyes to a marginal slit and stared up at the dusty dim ceiling, but his eyes shut abruptly as Blaise’s nail dug into his slit. “Shit,” he mumbled, slapping Blaise’s hand from his mouth and grabbing onto Blaise’s shoulders with a much tighter grip than before.

The stinging pain felt so amazing, and Harry couldn’t resist rocking his hips up into and digging that blunt nail just a little bit further.

Blaise grinned into Harry’s shoulder before taking his free hand to tug at the side of Harry’s shirt and robe. Outside of Hogwarts, Harry had eschewed his tie, so Blaise had no trouble popping the top few buttons on Harry’s button-down and revealing his pale shoulder. Without wasting a second, he sunk his teeth into the skin with enough force to leave a bright bruise. His tongue laved over the skin as Harry bucked into his hand more erratically.

Blaise took a half step backwards as Harry pushed him away. The boy looked wrecked as he panted and heaved on the shelf, the cock in Blaise’s hand leaking copiously onto the wooden shelf beneath the Gryffindor. Harry made such a delicious sight, and the sounds he emitted when Blaise squeezed his shaft just right on the upstroke threatened to have Blaise shooting in his pants which was never comfortable.

Thus, he fumbled with his own belt, buckle, and zipper with a single as he continued to pump Harry with the other and watch the boy writhe in front of him. He could watch Harry all day. If it were possible, he would have the little Gryffindor hanging off of his dick twenty four hours a day. Finally, freeing his own erection, Blaise pressed back into Harry’s space with a gasp as the tips of their cocks met sharply like the opposite ends of two magnets.

Harry gasped and clung to Blaise, his arms wrapped tightly around the boy’s shoulders, fingers digging into the cloth at his back. “More,” he gasped, canting his hips forward repeatedly.

Blaise grit his teeth and clenched his jaw as he gripped them both tightly in his large hand, pumping them furiously as Harry rocked and slid his cock through Blaise’s fingers and across the Slytherin’s dick. The sensations were exquisite, sharp and clear as crystal; everything about Harry just made Blaise feel so good. Blaise knew he wasn’t going to last long at all. Fortunately, Harry was in a similar state and froze and shivered simultaneously – spraying their stomachs as he arched his back and orgasmed, squeezing Blaise tightly.

 

\---:::---

“I want to go back to school,” Harry said bluntly.

After the boys had come down from their sexual high and straightened themselves up as much as possible, they resumed their walk back to the East Wing where their friends and family generally congregated.

Blaise wasn’t sure how he’d done it, but Harry had somehow found himself turned around in the North Wing. Blaise hadn’t even had time to show the Gryffindor that part of the Manor, so he couldn’t fathom how Harry wound up there unless the boy was walking and not paying even the slightest attention to his surroundings. With a forbearing sigh and small smile, Blaise admitted to himself that, that was probably exactly what the Gryffindor had done. As they walked, Blaise made sure to hold onto Harry’s hand and point out the differences between the East and North wings to help orient Harry in the future, should he be wandering the manor alone again.

However, upon hearing Harry’s outburst, Blaise paused and tilted his head to look down at his boyfriend, his wavy curls falling into his eyes. It would be time for a haircut soon.

“You have only just arrived here. We still have over a month of our suspension left,” he began confusedly. Surely Harry wasn’t ready to leave just yet. Blaise had many plans for their time away from Hogwarts.

Harry shrugged, “I don’t want to return for good. I just want to see Ron; he’s a little lonely without us.”

“You mean, without you,” Blaise snorted, resuming their walk. “I am sure he could hardly care less if he saw me again before next year let alone in December.”

Harry waved dismissively with a shrug, “Same difference. It’s not like you and I are ever really separated. We practically operate as a unit now.”

Blaise grinned at that comment. The way that Harry said it with such ease and nonchalance lit a warm fire in his chest.

When Harry and Blaise finally slinked into the sitting room a few hours later – having made several gratuitous pit stops along the way – tousled and sated, Draco snickered while everyone else in the room just eyed both boys knowingly. Severus looked completely exasperated and pinched his nose with a sigh. Bill and Rabastan who appeared to be fast friends now, grinned widely. Harry was sure that Sirius would have been a cross between horrified and proud, but he was still bedridden for the next week.

Luckily, Bahiti and Narcissa weren’t present at all, so Harry didn’t have to suffer their mild disapproving looks.

 

\---:::---

That night at Hogwarts Ron sat out on a secluded balcony in the chilly open air, thinking about everything that had happened in the past few months – everything he’d missed and everything he’d learned. Most of it was shocking and frightening, but yet others were partly thrilling.

He was also thinking about other less daunting things as well like what he should get for a midnight snack in a few hours or what Neville had planned for the Hogsmeade weekend coming up in a few days. Since Harry’s departure, Ron had been spending a lot of time with the Longbottom heir. They surprisingly had a lot in common: they both enjoyed quiddich; Neville wasn’t totally bollox at chess like Harry was, and Neville wasn’t as scared or timid as he used to be, so he would often sneak down to the kitchen with Ron after hours. On top of all of that, Neville was so nice to him, always going out of his way to help him with herbology – now that Ron was no longer speaking to Hermione. It must have been painfully obvious that Ron didn’t really know what to do with himself with Harry suddenly absent in the middle of the term.

Ron sighed and gazed up at the stars; he was still deciding what to make of it all. But he could be certain that he liked Neville’s attention _very_ much. Hermione had always been so judgmental even in their first year, and Ron was only just realizing how much it had brought him down and made him jealous of anyone she wasn’t chastising, Harry in particular.

Ron wanted Hermione’s approval as his friend so much that he never realized that, that desire had fooled him into believing that his feelings for her were much more than they actually were. It had blinded him to the things that were directly in front of him, namely his best friend’s pain and stress from dealing with the supposed death of his godfather and constant threats from Voldemort. This could have ultimately led to him losing Harry, and Ron was grateful every day that it hadn’t ended up like that.

Aside from Harry, Ron hardly noticed Neville or really cared to truly know those who hung around with them in their friend group. Otherwise, he would have noticed sooner how much Longbottom had changed. With a blush, Ron recalled the previous morning when he walked into their dorm room bathroom just seconds after Neville had stepped out of the shower. He wouldn’t soon forget that muscled back with suds clinging to the skin or his tight behind that had water trying to gather just over the globes of his arse. Ron’s mouth went dry just thinking of it.

Let it suffice to say that Ron was noticing a lot at the moment.

“It is quite cold out tonight,” an airy voice pierced the night, interrupting Ron’s thoughts. “The shadowed gorgons are all running for the hills right now. The southern ones of course; they hate the cold don’t you know?”

Ron leaned his head back and stared up at Luna. He was becoming aware of her too in the last few days, and Ron wasn’t sure what to make of his feelings on the matter aside from the fact that he was starting to find her presence near him common lately as if she felt it was safe to associate with him more now that Hermione wasn’t gazing over his shoulder disapprovingly.

Ron had always been unfair to Luna maybe because Hermione wasn’t overly fond of her originally. The redhead couldn’t be sure, but now, after spending more time with her and Neville, he found Luna’s strange comments to be a little comforting.

“Are they now?” he asked in response to her comment.

She nodded and stared out into the sky wistfully, “It is a good thing too. They are quite dangerous and spiteful. I am glad to see them gone.”

Ron smiled, “Me too.”

Sweeping her skirt beneath her, Luna sat and settled herself on the stone balcony beside Ron. “What are you doing out here, Ron?”

“Just thinking,” he sighed. “What about you? Your best friend wasn’t suspended was he?” Ron joked lightly.

Luna chuckled, “No, but I doubt that has you sitting out here with the mosswhips. They usually hide in the library you know.”

Ron shrugged a silent answer. “The mosswhips don’t mind the cold?”

“No,” Luna shook her head. “They like to hang around the heavy thinkers, and don’t care much about the weather. You must be thinking pretty hard to have them out here.”

“I guess so,” Ron sighed.

“Do you want to talk about it,” she asked, wrapping her arms around her knees, shivering a little.

Ron took notice of the strong wind, blowing her hair about her face and finally sat up. He removed his outer robe and slid it around her shoulders. “Not out here, I don’t. I think it’s time I took advice from those gorgons and found somewhere warm to relax.”

As he stood, Luna grinned up at him. Her eyes were clear for once, devoid of that far-away expression.

Ron stared at her, and the longer he looked the redder he became. Luna looked really beautiful in that moment beneath the stars, and Ron was surprised that he’d never before noticed the icy blue of her eyes or the way her moonlit hair always fell around her face delicately.

The redhead cleared his throat and hoped that the cold wind would excuse his bright blush. “Do-do you want to come with me? I know how to get into the kitchens. We could grab a bite to eat,” he asked and extended his hand out to her, suddenly shy.

“That would be lovely,” she smiled, grabbing his helping hand while pulling his robe tighter around her body.

 

\---:::---

Several hours away, Voldemort scowled as he ran his boney hand down Nagini’s head. Something was very wrong, something he had not prepared for, and it had taken him by surprise. The Dark Lord did not enjoy nor appreciate surprises, so he was in a very foul mood.

A hissing growl left his throat as he sought the bonding threads of Lucius, Narcissa, and Rabastan but found nothing once again. He did not know how they had hidden themselves from his all-seeing eye, but he would find out, and once he did there would be more than hell to pay. No one humiliated the Dark Lord. Once he located them, the pain would be unimaginable. No one escaped the Dark Lord.

“Milord,” Bellatrix called, sweeping into Voldemort’s throne room and kneeling before him.

“You have news?”

Bellatrix shifted restlessly on the stone floor at her lord’s feet. She was never fearful of him, always reverent. However, she loathed failing and displeasing him. She knew that he would be beyond displeased with her information or lack thereof.

“I apologize milord-”

“CRUCIO!” Voldemort threw the curse at Bellatrix immediately to relieve some stress. “I do not desire your apologies Bella. You know this. I demand results and nothing less.”

Bellatrix lifted her head and bobbed it lightly, “Of course milord. We have been unable to locate my sister or her husband or my brother in law. Their quarters are as they left them with no signs of struggle or a hasty leave. It is unclear if they disappeared of their own accord or if they were taken.”

Voldemort growled. He refused to believe that they could have been taken. They were highly trained wizards belonging to his inner circle. They were resourceful and tenacious. If they wanted to disappear, then they could hide themselves from much of the world but _not_ from their lord. That was unacceptable, and more than that. It should have been entirely impossible. The Dark mark was created to be impenetrable, non-concealable, and never to be removed even by the Dark Lord himself.

There was no place on this planet that was safe for his supporters. There was no place where he couldn’t find them, so for Lucius, Rabastan, and Narcissa to disappear was a _very_ unpleasant phenomenon on one hand. On the other hand, Voldemort was fascinated by the magic that could have accomplished the unfathomable – removing his Dark Mark. He knew that must have been the case loathe though he was to admit it because there was no other way the magical connection he had with them could have dissipated so precipitously.

Voldemort rose from his throne and walked up to Bellatrix. He dipped a spindly finger beneath her chin. “You have done well, Bella,” he purred, smirking as she shivered at his touch. “But, I need you to do more.”

“Yes milord,” she said, turning her face into his palm with a sigh. “What do you desire of me?” she asked suggestively.

“Bring me the boy, Draco Malfoy,” he hissed angrily, grabbing her chin with a bruising grip and thrusting her away from him. “See if you can at least find one Malfoy. I will give you a hint. Check the castle.”

“Milord, Yule break does not begin until next mon-”

Voldemort stalked forward and back-handed her, drawing blood that streaked his pale hand. “Did I give you leave to speak?”

Bellatrix couldn’t muster breath to speak. Her lord had never physically struck her before, and she was unsure of how to feel about his use of muggle violence. He was too pristine and grand to sully himself so even on her. She stared at the blood on his hand, and she was appalled. She knew it was her blood that marred his skin, but Bella disdained anything that sullied her lord.

“Do you think me a fool, dear Bella?” he asked without giving her a chance to speak. “I know when Yule is, but his parents are missing in action. I want to lure our missing sheep home. They will return for their son. Make no mistake. Bring him here!”

“Yes milord,” she bowed and scuffled out, searching out her husband.

 

\---:::---

Days later on a chilly but sunny afternoon, Severus felt the wards he’d furtively layered around Hogsmeade pulse against his skin. The sensation was oily and unnerving as it stretched tightly around his body.

He scowled and strode through his potions lab, flicking his wand repeatedly as he walked to activate various stasis spells, repelling wards, and locking and privacy charms.

Severus was annoyed to be summoned thusly with no forewarning or indication of who it might be. Only a select few new the whereabouts of Severus’ wards and how to activate them to call him, and those individuals were none he wanted to see as they were all followers of the Dark Lord.

Keeping that in mind, Severus grabbed a few extra potions and added them to his normal selection that he kept hidden in the many pockets of his robes. He sneered at the younger students milling about the halls as he made his way to the Hogwarts gate. It was Saturday, a Hogsmeade weekend, so the younger years who weren’t allowed into the small village were roaming the halls as they normally couldn’t with the older students guarding their favorite haunts.

The fact that it was a Hogsmeade weekend troubled Severus even more, and he picked up the pace as he headed down the hill, making his way through the fall leaves. If the Dark Lord’s minions were in the village, then it was dangerous for the students to be there at the same time.

Months, even weeks ago, Severus’ first decision would have been to contact Dumbledore and inform him of the potential danger, but Severus had no desire to speak to the man these days. In fact, Severus spent majority of his days at Zabini manor with Sirius, Potter, and his godson – training the boys and watching over Black’s recovery.

However, no matter Severus’ personal feelings on the matter he was nothing if not a prudent, practical man. The potential danger necessitated that he inform the Headmaster of the potential threat to his students. Unfortunately, the old man wasn’t at Hogwarts at the moment. He’d gone running off days ago on some confounded Order mission that he just couldn’t _possibly_ entrust to anyone else. Despite his anger and growing lack of faith in the Headmaster, Severus knew that his absence during this time was poor luck indeed.

The only saving grace was that Potter wasn’t around to jump head first into a brawl and ruin Severus’ day. The man nearly pinched his nose on reflex just imagining the mischief that boy knew how to create.

Having the students in the village was both a blessing and curse, Severus thought as he finally reached Hogsmeade. He noticed McGonagall’s stern eye immediately, and Flitwick’s wand work was present everywhere in the charmed leaf men chasing the young third and fourth years. Several Hogwarts’ professors had joined the students on the trip to Hogsmeade. If something untoward happened, the village had the best protection it was likely to receive, considering how slow and ineffective the Ministry was in responding to Voldemort’s attacks.

Severus nodded slightly to each professor that caught his eye as he made his way to the village apothecary. The shop held one of his hidden wards in its basement. Anyone who might have noted him entering would merely assume that he needed to replenish some potions’ ingredient or another.

He ignored the few people puttering around in the shop and moved smoothly through the shadows. He stole stealthily into the basement, charming the shop owner on the way down, so he wouldn’t think to visit his basement stores for some hours yet. The basement itself was well insulated long ago by Severus with several layers of privacy and protection charms to muffle any disturbance that occurred within its walls.

The charms wouldn’t withstand a tumultuous battle, but it would do nicely with a few hexes and curses which he was sure this meeting would result in once he heard the voice calling out to him.

“Snape,” a shrill voice hissed out at him in the darkness. Lifting his wand and casting a silent lumos, Severus noticed the two shadows in the corner. He could easily discern the woman’s voice.

“Bella,” he greeted calmly, clenching his wand tighter. It was never safe to drop his guard or his wand in the mad woman’s presence. The man traveling with her could only be her husband Rodolphus, the slower Lestrange brother. Severus could hardly stand the man when they were in school together. He detested him further after he tied his fate along with his younger brother to the Black family.

“Cute,” she cackled, then abruptly stopped and sneered, “cut the pleasantries, Snape.”

“I would never endeavor to be pleasant to you, Bella,” Snape said evenly. “What do you want?”

“We were sent here by the Dark Lord,” Rodolphus finally spoke up.

“To what purpose,” Snape wanted to know. If Voldemort wanted anything to do with Hogwarts he would have normally summoned Severus. The fact that the insane man had circumvented that route and sent his torture specialist and her flakey flunky did not bode well.

“We have been here but an hour Snape and we found out-”

“Shut your gob,” Bella hissed, hitting her husband in the stomach. “As you must know my sister and her pathetic husband have disappeared with Rabastan. My Lord is skeptical, but I know they have betrayed his cause, and they will die for it.”

Severus remained silent, unwilling to reveal anything.

Bella scowled and tried to pick him apart, but if it was impossible for the Dark Lord to do so, the nitwit before him had not a Slytherin’s chance in hell.

“We have been sent to retrieve my nephew as a means to locate and punish them. Imagine my surprise and pleasure to arrive here during a Hogsmeade weekend,” Bella grinned and wriggled. The woman didn’t know how to stand still or how to move gracefully. She was constantly jerking ungainly in one direction or another.

Severus watched her keenly and furtively moved his free hand into his robes to make sure he had his emergency portkey. He knew exactly where this was headed, and he didn’t want to be in this small confined space when it got there. However, he couldn’t abandon his Slytherins and the other students running around unwittingly above their heads. That limited his choices immensely. He knew that only Bella and Rodolphus were present in the village, and that worked to his advantage, but Bella could do a lot of damage and injure or kill many students and bystanders on her own. With her husband by her side, Severus would be hard pressed to contain her.

“Can you fathom my disappointment not to find my nephew, young Draco here,” Bella continued, “or to find that he and Potter have both been suspended from Hogwarts grounds for some weeks now? How could you fail to inform our Lord,” she shrieked, finally giving in to her more familiar manic manner.

“We could have been searching for Potter and the Malfoys, who are undoubtedly together,” Rodolphus said, finally finding the courage to speak up after being silenced by his wife.

Bella grit her teeth in a horrifying grimace, “You have betrayed our Lord.”

Severus remained silent and rapidly contemplated his options. The chances of her summoning the Dark Lord to punish him personally were fifty-fifty. Bella was blood-thirsty and unstable. She would want to deal with Severus personally. Of that he had no doubt, but he couldn’t be sure if her longing for blood and death was stronger than her desire to please the Dark Lord, and they both knew that Voldemort loved nothing more than to punish his faithful minions and to bask in the anguish or others.

 

\---:::---

Ron was so confused. They had been out all day since 9:00am going from store to store and now they were at the restaurant that everyone took their dates to _The Angel and the Fisherman_.

Ron was beet red from the stares and awkwardness. He had never been here, and everyone knew it. Who ever wanted to take him on a date? He wasn't sure if he should feel uncomfortable because for all intents and purposes this seemed like a date, but she never said anything about it. However, Luna was being really solicitous of him and making an effort to include him every time he almost slipped into an awkward silence.

Before they'd entered the restaurant they'd been having a great time. They successfully avoided Hermione who was hopping into any group of peers that would have her.

After the confrontation with Harry in the Great Hall, she was finding it difficult to settle into a new friend group. One week she was with the Ravenclaws, and then Ginny and her friends, but even Ginny it appeared was beginning to tire of Hermione's continued presence. Currently, the Gryffindor was trying to join the Puffs, and it seemed to be going as well as possible since they were too kind to turn her away. However, their discomfort was apparent.

Ron sighed. He could relate with that discomfort as he followed Luna out of the eatery. It appeared that they were heading down Footpads Lane. It was quiet and secluded, detached from the main alley in Hogsmeade where most of the students congregated. Because of its separation, couples often ventured down this way to be alone, and Ron couldn't understand why they were going there.

"Um, Luna I think I'll turn back now," he mumbled feeling uncharacteristically miffed.

"What?" Luna paused and turned to look at Ron. "Are you not having fun?"

“Um, well,” he paused and scuffed his foot against the ground and scattered some leaves and dirt. “This just seems a little like-” Ron broke off awkwardly. He wasn’t sure how to vocalize the awful feeling bubbling in his stomach and chest as he watched Luna sway with the breeze. She was so ethereal and cool in the opposite way that he was hotheaded. Being around her was like a balm calmed him. Still, being here in this alley and imagining, wishing this was more than what it was uncomfortable and a little painful.

“Ron?” Luna’s light voice interrupted his thoughts, and he pasted a forced smile on his face.

Swallowing the bitter taste in his mouth, Ron shook his head. “I’m fine. I just don't know what this is, and I'm... I’m just going to head back,” he threw his thumb over his shoulder, “and catch up with Seamus and Dean. ”

“Ron,” Luna began, stepping towards the boy. “I've," she began to mumble to herself discomfited, "wiggly figgle-fins!"

That seemed like a curse to Ron, like she wanted to say bloody hell, but the redhead couldn't be exactly sure when it came to Luna. "I've been wanting to tell you for a few weeks now," she began again. "In fact, ever since Hermione had that outburst in the Great Hall, I thought you should know. In-in-”

Luna shook her head obviously struggling with herself to be as clear and articulate as possible. The puffy cheeks, puffed out from an adorable frowning pout, turned rosy. She appeared so different from her usual confident, aloof manner. It was strange and confusing to Ron, but nonetheless Luna was her same endearing self that he was coming to know. He stepped forward and placed a warm hand on her arm. "Luna, what is it?"

Surely this couldn't be what he hoped it was.

“What I’m trying to say is that I like you. The yiddop bugs have been urging me on, but I wanted to approach it slowly because we've only ever really been acquainted through Ginny. But, lately there have been more opportunities to get to know you better and for you to get to know me... and the yiddop bugs are...” She trailed off unsurely. It wasn't clear what he was thinking, and she had obviously taken him by surprise. She thought in the last few weeks she had made her interest clear, but perhaps she was mistaken. Just because the yiddop bugs understood that didn't mean Ron would.

Ron gripped her arm a little tighter and pulled her closer to his body to shield her from the wind that was picking up and tossing her blonde hair about just as it did nights before. "Luna, you want to try to date me, why?"

"At first, in my first year I thought you were silly and painfully unobservant, and in ways you still are."

That stung a little.

"But, even then I thought your freckles were cute even though you were mean to me. I resolved to ignore you, but we were always thrown into situations together. I began to notice that you were loyal and smart in your own way. . . unlike that of Hermione, Harry, or even your brothers. If you haven't noticed, I like unusual things."

"Unusual?" Ron grumbled with a small smile.

Luna's tinkling laugh finally filled the air again. "You're trying to change and grow and support Harry. Without him here you're learning to stand on your own and fight your insecurities. I find that admirable even if others cannot see it. Many do not see," she said in her airy voice.

"So can we continue our date?" she asked.

Ron pulled her closer and pressed his lips firmly against hers. For the first time since Harry's suspension the cloud of loneliness and doubt began to dissipate. Butterflies took flight in his belly and heat poured into his veins, warming his entire body. When he pulled back his face was rosy red, and Luna's lips formed a fetching pout for a completely different reason. Where his skin touched hers, he tingled as if those butterflies escaped his belly and took flight across his skin. "Yes, let's continue," he answered breathlessly although he remained rooted in place watching her glistening eyes that were never truly clear of that faraway expression and her impish smile.

"We will keep it slow for the both of us," she grinned and grabbed his hand to pull him back into their walk.

Ron nodded happily and wondered if this is what Harry felt like the first time Blaise held his hand. He wondered if Harry felt like never letting it go. He wondered if Harry felt like pulling that body closer and closer. He just wondered. There was so much he now needed to talk to and ask his best friend about. But, glancing to the right at Luna, he decided that all of it could and would wait. "Hey," he said to draw her attention, "what's a yiddop bug and what does it do?"

Ron genuinely wanted to know; he wasn't just humoring her. At some point after the Ministry last year he stopped mocking her and taking her more seriously by the day. That's when she realized that this was worth pursuing.

Ron laughed as she explained and the yiddop bugs apparently took issue with her description of them as teal ladybug wannabes. It was pleasant just walking and talking with her, but heir time alone was brutally interrupted by an explosion from the apothecary.

“Bloody hell,” Ron said, grabbing Luna’s arm and pulling her away as they both sustained minor cuts and abrasions from flying wood and stone. He took a defensive position beside Luna who had drawn her wand. Young couples that they hadn’t noticed before were running back towards the main road calling for professors. This was good because if Ron wasn’t mistaken that was Rodolphus Lestrange that blasted out of the building and landed bleeding and nearly unconscious not ten feet away from them. If he was there then Ron knew that his wife if not Voldemort himself was not far away.

“Incarcerous!” Ron yelled, pointing his wand at the downed man just as he was moving to stand.

“GET BACK TO THE CASTLE!” Severus’ deep tenor roared through the air just a nasty hex hit the ground near a group’s feet, giving them more minor injuries.

Thinking quickly, Luna shielded a young fourth year couple that was knocked to the ground by debris from the spell. “Run,” she yelled as loud as possible which wasn’t very loud for her.

Ron’s eyes never left Severus as he dueled against Bellatrix Lestrange. Ron was nearly seeing red as he watched her. He remembered all too well how she had crucio’d Harry just last year and knocked Sirius into the Pit of Negation. It seemed that Severus remembered as well because the ferocity with which he attacked her was staggering. She was being pushed back an inch at a time, and it was only minutes before reinforcements would arrive, Ron knew.

Ron levitated Rodolphus out of the way, so that he could not be retrieved by Bellatrix when she undoubtedly retreated while Luna made sure that the rest of the small alley was cleared.

The mad woman surprised them though when she ducked behind an overturned cart and erected several shields just as McGonagall and Flitwick burst upon the scene, firing stunning spells.

Her shields fended them off deftly, but she was surrounded.

“The children are all retreating to the castle, and the Ministry has been alerted,” McGonagall called to madwoman. “There is nothing left for you here but death or capture. You would do well to escape while you can.”

“We should leave too,” Luna hissed, not particularly wanting to be caught in another battle with death eaters.

Ron nodded in agreement.

“I’m not leaving you old hag,” Bella cackled and bent her torso at an odd angle. “My lord will be here shortly to destroy all of you and punish this traitor,” she spat towards Snape.

Severus was quiet this entire time, planning his next move. The Dark Lord would surely come, and they couldn’t leave this place unguarded. The students would be safe within the castle, but the village would be destroyed. If she cast the dark mark and summoned the Dark Lord, things would get hairy fast, and many would die.

They needed to disarm her now. Without wasting another second, Severus nodded to McGonagall. It took several minutes to successfully cast the morsmordre incantation to produce the dark mark. They had maybe a minute and a half to disable her shields and disarm her.

Flitwick immediately set to dismantling her shield charms, and McGonagall and Severus began batter the shields to weaken them further.

“If you must stand there and gawk,” Severus grunted, “be of some use,” he urged the two teens still rooted in place.

Ron lifted his arm as quickly as he could manage. Almost in perfect sync with Luna they yelled, “BOMBARDA!”

The shields fell just as Bellatrix thrust her arm into the air. She couldn’t cast the spell, but neither could they capture her. She disappeared with a loud angry crack, and everyone breathed a sigh of relief.

“What are we to do with this,” Flitwick asked, toeing Rodolphus’ body.

“Well we certainly cannot take him into the castle,” McGonagall snorted.

Severus shrugged, “Hand him over to the Ministry. Let it be their problem. It will appear as if they are not truly the incompetent imbeciles that they are.”

The professors chuckled while the two students looked on. Shop keepers were moving back into the street to start the clean-up, and ministry aurors were finally beginning to show up on the scene when Severus collapsed with a shriek, grasping his left forearm.

“The mark,” McGonagall cried, moving into a kneeling position beside Severus. “We must get him to Pomfrey and Dumbledore.”

“No,” Severus groaned, blood beginning to leak from his ears, nose and mouth. The Dark Lord was terribly angry, and he was making sure that Severus felt every ounce of that anger. His malevolent magic poured into Severus through the dark mark, wreaking havoc on his internal organs. When his arm snapped with a disturbing crack he screamed in pain, back arching off of the ground.

“What do we do?” Ron yelled.

Cuts were evidently erupting all over the man’s body as blood began to pour from beneath his robes, staining the cobblestone.

“He’s going to die if we don’t do something,” Ron urged, looking from face to face, wondering why no one was moving. Luna’s face bleeding from a cut on her cheek, but aside from that she was pale as death, and Luna was kneeling beside Ron before he’d even noticed.

Severus was opening and closing his mouth, trying to gasp in air and speak at the same time.

“What is it my boy,” McGonagall urged, digging through Severus’ robes for potions she knew must be there. Finding them, she held them before his face. When he was able to focus even slightly on one she uncorked it and shoved it down his throat.

This seemed to help somewhat as he spoke, “P-Potter. Portkey.” He gritted his teeth and his body began to convulse on the ground. His eyes rolled into the back of his head before he could retrieve the portkey. McGonagall dug into his robes as best she could.

“Hold him down!” she yelled desperately, having difficulty locating it in the many folds and pockets of his robes.

Ron latched onto the man’s shoulders but turned his eyes away from Severus’ face. He couldn’t bear to see the pain on his face or the frothing blood spilling from his mouth. Luna grabbed his thrashing legs as best as possible.

Flitwick was dealing with Rodolphus and the aurors who were not keen to assist with the situation. They were never fond of Severus, and tried to make themselves busy with straightening out the street and taking statements. _Bloody bigoted cowards_ he hissed in his mind. He couldn’t believe that he had ever admired them.

“I have it,” McGonagall exclaimed in triumph. “I am sorry my dears. You must take this trip as well to be sure that he lands as safely as possible. Support his body. There is no time to waste. Return to the castle as soon as possible when he is out of danger. I must remain here and see to the students.”

Without another word she placed the portkey on Severus’ convulsing chest and activated it as soon as each student placed a finger on the small muggle lighter with a black dog painted on the front of it.

 

\---:::---

Severus burst into Zabini manor, bleeding profusely, Ron supporting the bulk of his body. Blood was streaming from his ears, nose, and mouth. He was barely breathing around the blood in his throat and lungs. In a moment of clarity, Ron flipped the man onto his side to clear his mouth and help him breathe. Severus left arm was bent at an awkward angle, broken at the elbow.

Severus released a pained shout, thankfully drawing the house elves from their chores. The boys weren’t sure where they were or who to call for. Luna was silent beside them, clinging onto Severus leg more for her own support than his. She knew that encountering the Dark Lord and his followers once again was likely, but she only now realized just how much that trip to the Ministry in the previous year had frightened her. She couldn’t do much of anything in the face of Bellatrix today, and she was deeply ashamed and angry with herself.

“What should we do?” Ron asked, moving to better support Severus’ shoulder. When a few elves finally arrived upon the scene, Luna sent them scurrying to find help.

“Where the bloody hell are we,” Ron asked, drawing his wand again in case they needed to protect themselves. It was unlikely, given the helpful nature of the elves, but Ron was done letting his guard down.

Minutes later, Lady Zabini was disturbed in here personal parlor. “Mistress!”

Bahiti turned from her book at the shout. Her elves knew better than to make such a ruckus.

“You must come. Master Snape be injured in the hall!” the elf squeaked.

“Good heavens,” Narcissa gasped as she surged from her seat. She was just thinking of retiring for the night, but she was grateful that she had not.

“Nimsy, go and fetch my son and his guests as well Lord Malfoy,” Bahiti ordered, grabbing her skirts and rushing after Narcissa. “If they are not in the manor, retrieve them anyway. By force if necessary. This is an emergency.”

“Yes, Mistress,” the elf answered without hesitation apparating away to do her mistresses bidding.

“Merlin, what happened?!” Harry shrieked as he came careening around the corner with Blaise and Draco and two house elves hot on his heels. Lucius, Rabastan and Fred and George apparated into the entrance hall shortly after.

“What the bloody hell happened here,” Rabastan yelled, looking from one bloody body to the next.

“There was an attack,” Ron breathed. Realizing that they were safe, he released a long-withheld sigh of relief.

“Do not touch him,” Bahiti ordered, spelling off the potion master’s robes and passing them to Draco. “More than likely he has potions in there. I cannot identify them, but surely you and Lucius can identify a general healing potion,” she ordered, pulling out her wand with Narcissa and casting the few diagnostic spells she knew.

 

\---:::---

Harry was pacing and seeing red as he waited with Blaise and the others outside of Severus’ bedroom. Ron and Luna were resting in separate rooms too mentally exhausted to do much of anything other than collapse in a bed. Luckily, the ever suspicious potions master always had spare potions both with him and in his various homes, anywhere he laid his head to rest. This included the Zabini Manor.

The emergency potions he always carried with him had likely saved his life when he’d escaped wherever he’d come from. At this moment, Harry didn’t know what had happened, but he was beyond burning angry. He was trying to calm down because there was nothing he could do without the details that only Severus had.

He could just imagine the surly professor scowling at him now, _Sit down you foolish boy._

“Harry, Draco,” Bill called from his seat, “please sit down. There is nothing for us to do until Severus awakes and that will not be for some time.”

Harry looked up. He hadn’t noticed that Draco was pacing along with him sporting a stormy expression as well.

Harry sighed heavily and stomped over to Blaise, collapsing onto the couch by his side. “I just want to know what happened. Severus isn’t a weak wizard; not many could have done this to him.”

“Not many would have had the courage to try,” Rabastan nodded grimly, agreeing with Harry.

Blaise kissed him on his temple and pulled him closer, “We will find out Harry, and we will handle it.”

“Do you think it was the Dark Lord,” Draco asked, curling himself into Bill’s lap.

Harry shook his head with a frown, “I don’t know. I didn’t feel anything from Voldemort, but I haven’t felt much of anything all year,” he confessed. “I’ve been working on my occlumency shields, but I don’t think I’ve advance so far that I wouldn’t feel his anger at finding Severus is a traitor…if that is that case. I certainly would have noticed his glee at punishing him, so I have no idea what to think.”

 

\---:::---

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **A/N: How did you guys like Remus’ part? I was really torn about bringing him into this fic in a big way because I don’t hate him, but I think that sometimes he could be a bit…well flaky, but just not super dependable…well that’s not exactly the word I’m looking for either, but it’s late and my brain has officially gone offline. In any case, I’m sure you guys know what I mean. Ultimately I decided to bring him in, so what do you think? Please READ and REVIEW! Thanks!**
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> **P.S. Did any of you notice my Pride and Prejudice quote in there? Lol. I altered it a smidge, but it’s basically the exact same as in the book. :)**


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Hi everyone, here is the long, long awaited chapter 18. It’s on the long side…nearly 12,000 words! Whoot! I hope it doesn’t disappoint. I won’t take up too much time here in the author’s note. I just want to say that I have decided what I wanted to do with the Ron, Neville, and Luna situation. I’ve decided to just keep it Ron and Luna, so I went back and rewrote a section of chapter 17. You can go back and read it if you want to, but I did not change any major plot points aside from removing Neville from the relationship. Originally, in my notes and outline it was always just Ron and Luna, but then I sort of got ahead of myself and inserted Neville, and I tried to go with it, but it was bothering me, so I made the executive decision to remove him. Don’t worry though he’s still going to feature quite often in the fic, and there might be a wonderful OC in his future lol. In any case, I hope that disappoint anyone. Thank you everyone who voted! 
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> Enjoy the chapter, and please read and review! I will have chapter 19 posted as soon as possible.

**Chapter 18**

“What are you doing in here brat,” Severus croaked, his voice husky from disuse after a deep sleep. He cracked open one eye, pinning Harry at the entrance to his room like a butterfly on display. When he huffed and turned his gaze to the ceiling, Harry grinned and tromped into the room, collapsing gracelessly into the seat by the head of Severus’ bed.

“Merlin, help us all if you become anymore like your Godfather,” Severus complained as he eyed Harry’s posture disdainfully. He was slouched in the chair with a cocky grin on his face so reminiscent of Sirius from years ago that the resemblance was uncanny. Harry seemed to be undergoing so many transformations over the course of the term that Severus could scarcely keep track. The boy was like a chameleon in a kaleidoscope. 

When he was around Blaise, which was more often than not, he was alternately blushing shyly at some, no doubt, lewd thing the Zabini boy had said or done or he was asserting himself in a room full of _reformed_ Death Eaters like Severus had never seen him do before. Blaise had and continued to have such a positive effect on Harry, instilling in him confidence – stemming from the Slytherin’s protective, patient, quietly confident and encouraging manner. 

Ever the observer, Severus knew that Harry was finally building a support system that he could truly depend and rely on, and it was doing wonders for the boy’s confidence and blossoming personality. That he could be a part of that, Severus was more than grateful because as Harry rose from the ashes he seemed to pull those around him along with him: Severus – a traitor twice over – taciturn, generally unlikable but skillful potions master, strategist, and duelist; Sirius the goofy to a fault, unobservant, loyal parent searching for redemption and forgiveness that he never truly needed to ask for; Remus the woeful werewolf who thought himself unworthy of love; Rabastan the misfit who never truly found his way; Draco the spoiled and arrogant – though nevertheless loveable – stubborn brat; Ron the insecure, overlooked son; Blaise the aloof, distrustful Slytherin, and Lucius the misguided, yet ever-devoted servant. 

As Harry changed, they all changed, becoming something just a little bit better. Harry would likely never truly understand the gravity of what he was giving them and the loyalty that elicited from them.

“How are you feeling Severus,” Harry asked, leaning forward to grab the potions master’s hand. 

Severus looked down at the Gryffindor’s hand in his. His easy ability to reach out and touch the greasy dungeon bat still astounded Severus, but he was becoming more accustomed to the touching because Sirius also seemed to have the same affinity for invading Severus’ carefully guarded personal space. It was nice although he would never admit it. 

A squeeze to his fingers drew him from his inner thoughts. He glanced up at Harry’s expression and sighed as if put upon. “I am well Harry, tired and sore,” he answered.

“Would you like me to leave? I could return with lunch,” he suggested.

Severus shook his head minutely. “You have disturbed me already. Might as well make it worth my wile by telling me what I have missed the last few days. I feel like a man who has been asleep for multiple days,” he chuckled at himself. He looked towards the boy when he didn’t hear an accompanying laugh from Harry. 

Harry was frowning and sitting rigidly, “I’m sorry this happen-”

Severus resisted rolling his eyes, “Harry, you need to learn that everything does not revolve around you-” 

“I know that,” Harry interrupted with a slightly annoyed huff. 

Severus turned his head on the pillow and gazed at Harry with a begrudging fondness, “I only mean to say that everything is not your fault and it is not your lot in life to take responsibility or bear the guilt for everyone else’s actions. If someone is so inclined to apologize to me it should be the Dark Lord.” 

Harry crossed his arms and narrowed his eyes. It would have been a disconcerting expression to have leveled at you if it weren’t for the slightly pouting lips. 

“You could have just said that first,” Harry grumbled, moving and making a room from himself to sit on Severus’ bed. 

“What do you want, brat,” Severus asked again, shifting over to make more room. “I do not recall inviting you into my bed. You Gryffindors are always taking liberty and imposing on my personal space.”

Harry smirked, “Other Gryffindors have been sneaking into your bed recently?”

“You impertinent boy,” Severus glared. “I only referred to your Godfather’s stay in my quarters.” 

“Yes, I’m sure you’re referring to Siri,” Harry snickered. 

“Shut up, Potter,” Severus sighed, refusing to argue with the boy when he was sure that he would not be reasonable. 

Harry sighed and relaxed into the bed. “I am just glad you are feeling better. You worried all of us, and you slept for so long. There was nothing we could do to prevent the damage to your body from continuing. We could only respond reactively, healing your wounds as quickly as they appeared to the best of our ability. We couldn’t proactively do anything; it was maddening as you might expect for a Gryffindor like me. You don’t want to even imagine how Siri behaved. Keeping him in bed was impossible, but he had mostly recovered anyway, so we didn’t fuss. There were plenty of other things to worry about,” Harry said into the silence of the room. 

Severus wasn’t sure how to respond; he was unused to others’ concern for his well-being. 

“I am well,” he repeated the assurance. 

“Yes, I know,” Harry said quietly, moving to squeeze Severus’ hand. “And we will make Voldemort pay for hurting you.” 

“Harry-”

“No,” Harry said firmly, clenching his jaw stubbornly. “He will. I have had enough of the pain and suffering he causes. What I am training for if not to stop things like this from happening. You are a Slytherin; surely you know and understand the gains to be had from retribution besides simply sating a thirst for vengeance.”

Severus nodded yet remained silent. 

“I will undoubtedly need your help though,” Harry spoke again. 

“You know that you need not ask,” Severus answered honestly. 

Harry smiled again for the first time in ten minutes. “Yes, I know.”

“But I will not help you kill your stupid self,” Severus said, the acerbic tone returning to his voice. “Whatever you have in mind will have to wait until your training – which has yet to start mind you – is complete.”

“Of course, Severus,” Harry smiled at him. 

“What do you have in mind?”

“Several things,” Harry answered with a cryptic smile. This time Severus did roll his eyes, unable to control it. Spending time with so many Slytherins was certainly having an effect on the boy. 

Harry moved to the door and paused in the frame before stepping out. “You are better now because Voldemort has likely exhausted himself by pouring so much magic into your mark. Surely you must know what will happen when he regains his strength.”

Severus remained silent, but it went without saying that the Dark Lord would endeavor to destroy both his body and mind. 

“I would never suggest this, considering the time you have spent beneath both Voldemort and Professor Dumbledore, but please consider taking sanctuary with the Malfoys under me. I would never take advantage of it, and you can break the contract as soon as the Dark Lord is no longer a threat to you.”

Severus took a deep breath. It was certainly the lesser of two evils to join Harry, and certainly he wanted to protect Harry from the Dark Lord, but he had never had the urge to serve beneath a lord like the Malfoys because he wasn’t a pureblood. Furthermore, his relationship with Harry was fundamentally different from the one Lucius or even Rabastan shared with the boy.

Despite his acerbic, gruff personality, Severus had been caring for Harry as much as possible since he first entered Hogwarts. He had to disguise his concern with maltreatment and verbal abuse in public, and it helped that Harry as a child was genuinely infuriating. However, since Lily’s death he had vowed to assure the safety of young Harry, and Severus took that promise seriously. In recent months, especially after their foray into The Pit, it had transformed into a different sort of concern something more familial and akin to how he felt towards Draco. Taking sanctuary with Harry could confuse those emotions further. 

“You could also take it with someone else,” Harry suggested, noting the potions master’s hesitation. “It would be strange thinking of protecting you since you have always looked after me. Albeit in an often times indirect and violent way,” Harry snickered. “I have been speaking with Lucius and Rabastan. We believe that having magic from two powerful ancient wizarding families providing sanctuary – the Potter and Black family magic through me – lent great strength to the contract, but given the extraordinary results-”

“There had to be something more than that,” a voice behind Harry interrupted.

“Mutt,” Severus greeted. 

“Looks like our positions are reversed,” Sirius said, looking over Severus with worry. Bandages were visible on his hands, arms, and chest. He certainly appeared more than a little worse for wear. 

Severus snorted and beckoned him into the room, surprisingly happy to see the man up and about. The last time he’d been able to visit a few days before Bellatrix’s attack on him, Sirius was still bedridden for certain periods of the day. 

“Harry, why don’t you go and find the others. Our lessons will begin in an hour, so make sure that each of you are prepared,” Sirius told him. 

“I was just telling Severus about what we have learned about the effects of the sanctuary given to the Malfoys and Rabastan.”

“Alright, I can continue from there. You need to prepare for the lesson as all of you have failed miserably for the last three days.”

Harry groaned and huffed. “Fine, fine I’m going.” 

Sirius grinned and moved further into the room, collapsing into the chair in the same manner that Harry had an hour ago. Severus stared at him for several seconds before rolling his eyes and huffing at the similarity. 

“Harry was explaining to you the effects of the sanctuary on Lucius and his family and Rabastan?” Sirius asked. 

“He was getting around to it,” Severus drawled, “taking the long way around.” 

Sirius laughed out loud at that, “I’m sure there was much he wanted to say.”

“Not much of it was of any use,” Severus stated calmly, making the mutt laugh again. Although he fought it, that sound was really starting to attract him. “So you have a theory about why the Dark Mark has ceased to connect them in any way to the Dark Lord.”

Sirius nodded, “We have ideas. Parts of it are disturbing, but Harry has taken it in stride and is primarily only concerned about the end results.” 

“What were your conclusions?”

“Ultimately, when they took sanctuary they established a bond very similar to the fealty bond. As we know, taking magical sanctuary of any sort will result in something similar. However, the very act of taking sanctuary has near to never been done when someone is under a fealty bond with some other lord because no one has likely ever possessed the need. Hypothetically, they would have enough protection from the first lord and therefore not to need the sanctuary of another. Therefore, with this first attempt we had no idea what the exact results would be.” 

Severus nodded because he had spoken at length with Lucius after he learned that Potter had extended the offer of sanctuary to them. They had several possibilities in mind and what had actually occurred was beyond their greatest expectations. They were honestly only hoping to occlude the link between themselves and the Dark Lord, dampening his access to their magic and preventing him from locating or summoning them. 

When Severus looked at Lucius’ arm in comparison to his own the Dark Mark looked gray and ashen, the magical links sustaining it were truly dead and gone. They could likely cover it with a spell or even have it removed like any other magical tattoo. Neither of those options had ever been possible before. When the Dark Lord disappeared so many years ago, the mark was still bright and vivid. It just felt dormant like a slumbering dragon. As they were always told, the mark couldn’t be removed, but it angered and pained Severus that someone of significant magical strength and the true intent to shield and protect them could very well have released him nonetheless.

“It was difficult for Rabastan to take a close look because there is no physical mark of magic on any of them from Harry and because there was no magical transfer from any of them although there is room for more possibilities there I think. In any case, that in itself is telling about the differences between the Dark Mark and Harry’s gift to them.”

“Did you learn anything at all?” Severus wanted to get to the heart of the matter. 

Sirius sat back and crossed his ankles. Stretching out, he looked like a man on vacation rather than an escaped convict discussing the intricacies of experimental magical bonds. Sirius’ ability to always look relaxed and unruffled was both admirable and exceedingly aggravating. It was a different sort of inscrutability than Severus’, but effective nonetheless because no one could tell when he was worried or frightened in high pressure situations. He only let his guard down around a trusted few. It’s a different sort of Slytherin sensibility that Sirius’ family couldn’t understand, and it was one of the reasons he felt so isolated from them during his years of woeful teenage angst. Severus rolled his eyes again. If he did it anymore he would undoubtedly give himself a headache. The mutt was always giving him pain. 

“Yes, well…we have strong hypotheses that are likely true given what we know about the bond between Zabini and Harry and Harry’s connection to Voldemort.” 

Severus arched an eyebrow slowly, his thoughts starting to race in directions he’d previously ignored. 

“Originally, the contract was written and bewitched in such a way that the bonds of sanctuary draw on Potter and Black ancestral magic, primarily Black magic because Harry has yet to come into his Potter inheritance. Because I signed the contract, Harry has authority to draw on the Black magic to its fullest degree, but even that is not enough to completely conquer Voldemort’s mark.” 

“It would have needed more magic,” Severus whispered, finally catching on. 

“Yes,” Sirius nodded. “We initially believed that only two ancestral families would be involved, but there are in fact four.” 

“Four?” Severus tried to sit up only to collapse back into his pillows when Sirius forced him down. After a short coughing fit he said, “I only considered three.”

Sirius sat back down in his chair after assuring that the potions master was comfortable. “You are likely on the right track. Due to the reciprocal nature of Harry’s bond with Zabini – likely strengthened and exacerbated by the ritual they used to magnify that aspect of the bond when you two came to retrieve me – the magic that Rabastan could see had faint traces of both the Zabini ancestral family and the boy’s maternal line from Egypt although that strand was difficult for Rabastan to pick up on until he actively sought it out. And, even then he had to closely examine Bahiti to get a sense of that particular magical signature.” 

Severus nodded. It was fantastical and had never been documented before as much as Severus knew, but unwittingly charting unknown waters was Potter’s forte. However, “if that is the case why did we not notice fatigue in Zabini after binding the contract?”

“Harry is the nexus, the focal point of the magic and filtering that influx of magic drawn from four powerful families was taxing. Furthermore, it was highly dangerous because if Harry’s connection with Zabini’s family – particularly his maternal family in Egypt – is so small…”

“The magic could and most probably should have rejected him, likely severely injuring or killing him,” Severus noted. “The bond between those two must have progressed further than we could have imagined before. We will need to keep an eye on them because that type of magical exchange can have powerful and dangerous results.”

Sirius nodded gravely. The uncertainty about what the bond was and how it tied the two teens together had left Sirius with a number of sleepless nights. 

That would be something to monitor in later days, but Severus wanted to bring them back around to the point. “That alone – the four families – should have been enough to adequately shield them from the Dark Lord, putting the mark in a faux dormant state, not destroy the magic it contained entirely.” 

“We believe that because the Dark Mark is likely a bastardization of the fealty bond, Voldemort must have used blood magic to first create it before altering it further to create a spell that can be cast into the sky. Because of this it is susceptible to rituals influenced by his blood. Voldemort was resurrected using Harry’s blood, and the sanctuary ritual uses blood as well. It need not necessarily be in a written contract form. That emerged in the last few hundred years to be more explicit about the terms, but it still needs blood from the granter to solidity it, thus the blood quills. Harry’s blood is now Voldemort’s blood. The magical signature of the two are not exactly the same, but it was enough to deceive the magic in the Dark Mark which is decades old. Harry wanted to protect them from its effects and possibly destroy it, and the magic responded to that. With the magical muscle of strong four families, the Dark Mark was completely overcome.” 

Both men were silent as Severus absorbed all of this and incorporated it into his current knowledge of the Dark Lord which was vast given his years of spying. 

“The implications of that are both wonderful for a strike against Voldemort in the future, yet also extremely dangerous if the Dark Lord emerges from his madness long enough to realize that. Surely, the results that Harry achieved by manipulating the Dark Lord’s magic with blood can be used against him by Voldemort as well. How much of this does Potter know and understand,” Severus asked quietly. 

“Everything,” he answered. “His use and practice of magical theory send construction is rudimentary because he’s never studied it formally, but his natural propensity for understating it is astonishing. After listening to Rabastan’s explanation of what he’d observed, Harry inferred most of this on his own.”

“Good,” Severus nodded. “He should know as much as possible about the events that he is personally responsible for,” he grumbled. In the past, Harry often started a chain of events that he could hardly understand nor hope to control. 

“Did Harry ask you about taking sanctuary with him,” Sirius asked after a beat.

Severus nodded sharply. “He is still a foolish and sentimental brat,” Severus huffed, crossing his arms gingerly, despite the warmth of Harry’s concern filling his chest. “Because we understand this, it all the more reason I should not seek sanctuary from Harry. The less Voldemort has to think about missing followers and broken links, the less he will think about the blood ties they share. That is disturbing to think about,” he muttered. Harry’s desire to help Severus in spite of the risks was the boy’s bull-headed Gryffindor nature shining through. How could one boy be so conflicting, complex, and confounding? 

“Tell me about it,” Sirius sighed. 

Severus sighed and allowed his body to fully relax and collapse into the comfortable duvet and pillows surrounding him. He closed his eyes, but fought off the sleep pulling at him when he noticed that Sirius was not leaving. He cracked an eye open and considered the grim expression on Severus’s face. 

Staring at Severus’ exhausted and battered body, Sirius’ countenance had taken on a hard serious expression that Severus rarely saw outside of battle. “Please tell me you aren’t going to regale me with grandiose plans for vengeance on my behalf,” he drawled with an annoyed frown. Gryffindors were always so sentimental. 

“Of course not,” Sirius responded with a grin that possessed a sharp, dangerous edge to it. “You know that I will seek it alongside Harry, so there is no reason to state it aloud.”

“Black-”

“I agree that taking sanctuary at this time with Harry might draw undo attention, but getting it from someone else can protect you in the future from the full effects of attacks like these. It is something that you should consider. You can use myself or maybe even Bahiti. You should not disregard it outright. He could destroy you now Severus.”

Sirius held up a hand when the potions master appeared to want to argue, “Perhaps I have not been explicit about my intentions, but I was terrified to see you beaten and bleeding as you were days ago. I won’t wait any longer to make my intensions known, no matter how stubbornly you try to ignore them. I handled things inappropriately as a child. We both know this, but even as an eleven-year-old child I have always been intrigued by you. It was only-”

“Black spare me-”

“No,” Sirius said firmly, straightening his back. He looked like a different man, a man who had escaped hell multiple times and was clawing tooth and nail for something better. For some reason that something better included Severus, and the potions master wasn’t sure he could believe it. He wasn’t sure he was worth it…worth any of it, Harry’s affectionate childlike fancy, Draco’s love and admiration, and certainly not Sirius’ regard.

“I know what you’re thinking,” Sirius said.

“As you rarely spend time using the brain you were born with, I find that notion unlikely,” Severus drawled. 

Sirius ignored the defensive snide barb, “I know that expression because I see it in the mirror at least once a day. Every time Harry embraces me without a second thought, every time he glances over his shoulder to make sure I’m still there I feel it. I feel such guilt for my past actions, leaving him with those muggles, missing so much of his life. I feel unworthy of his love and affection. You and I, we are tainted men Severus. We’ve both made mistakes Severus, but we’ve suffered enough, more than enough. Isn’t it time we suffered a little less, stole a little happiness for ourselves? It’s time we stopped punishing ourselves. It yields nothing. It doesn’t assuage our guilt or erase our past deeds,” Sirius said plaintively. 

Severus swallowed a large lump in his throat. 

“Let us love you,” Sirius entreated, grabbing his hand. A lot of people were touching Severus that day, and he found that it didn’t bother him as much as it should have. Sirius was dangerously close, leaning over him, so far out of the chair that he threatened to tip out of it. “In whatever capacity you desire,” Sirius spoke into the pregnant silence. “I’m not here to push or force you into anything, and I know that our relationship is a delicate one, but by giving and receiving love we can heal too.” 

Severus took a shuddering breath. He felt the skin heating up beneath the bandages where Sirius was pressing against him. It was warm and the other man’s body – even in this small capacity – had such a powerful effect on him. It had been quite some time since he’d felt this way…so many, many years. Would it be so terrible if he grabbed it tightly with both hands?

Closing his eyes but refusing to let go of Black’s hand, Severus sighed as he slipped towards sleep. “I will consider it.”

\---:::---

After leaving Severus’ room, Harry went in search for Draco and Blaise. Ron and Luna had to leave the day prior. They weren’t injured severely and the minor cuts and abrasions they did suffer could easily be taken care of by Madame Pomfrey. They wanted to stay until Severus awoke, but on urging from a letter from Dumbledore, they all thought it important that they leave sooner rather than later lest the Headmaster come to retrieve them himself and cause trouble.

“There you are,” Harry said, entering Blaise’s sitting room that was attached the Slytherin’s bedroom. “Sirius will be ready to begin our lessons soon, so we should head downstairs.”

 

Draco groaned and tossed his blonde head backwards on the chaise he was lounging on. “I do not want to,” he grumbled. 

“Bill might come down to help us,” Harry tried to entice him. 

Draco looked up and scowled at the smiling Gryffindor. 

“Cease the lies Potter, Bill has left and returned to Gringotts for work. He won’t return for several evenings.”

“No need to pout about it,” Blaise chuckled. “By the time we finish with Black and have lunch it will nearly be time for bed and the day will have sped by.” 

“Shut it Zabini, you are merely in a good mood because your Gryffindor rarely leaves your side longer than an hour.” 

Blaise snickered, “True.” 

“Hey! I’m standing right here and I can hear the both of you talking about me like I’m some lovesick puppy.” 

Draco stared at Harry.

“What?” 

The simply continued to stare with an arched eyebrow until Harry’s shoulders sunk and pout slowly overtook his face. 

“Fine, whatever. Come on, we all suck at the transformation technique Sirius is teaching us, so we to go down for practice.” 

Blaise snickered and Draco simply looked triumphant as he sauntered out of the room. 

“Don’t look so smug,” Harry snarked as he followed him out. “It’s not like you weren't just pouting about Bill.” 

“Yes, I have good reason. I rarely get to see him. My father – who I’m sure hates William on principle – talks with him more than I do.” 

“That is likely because he is discussing the terms of his courtship of you with your father. I cannot imagine that Lucius would make that process short or simple for Bill,” Blaise commented as he strode forward and threw an arm around Harry’s shoulder. 

“I don’t see you groveling to Black in order to be with Harry. Have you two even spoken about it, drafted a formal contract? He can’t be pleased that you two are constantly in the sack, without even a verbal contract in place with his guardian.” 

Blaise blushed a rosy red because he knew he’d done things out of order, but he and Harry had been operating under extreme circumstances. They were thrown together magically, and he couldn’t help that Harry was too tempting to resist. He had, however, made overtures to Sirius to correct himself and do things the proper as his upbringing – and more importantly his mother in the last few days – stridently dictated. 

Harry was slightly baffled by the conversation going on around him because he knew little to nothing about courtships and he still hadn’t found the time to look them up. From this conversation though, it appears that he and Blaise had proceeded out of order, and that would explain Lady Zabini’s strange expression upon meeting him the first time and her and Lady Malfoy’s mildly disapproving expressions whenever they thought – usually correctly – that Blaise and Harry had been doing more than just holding hands or kissing behind closed doors. 

Blaise pulled Harry closer into his body unconsciously. In the face of his mother’s slight displeasure with him, he’d defended his choices and explained to for the first time in person what Harry meant to him. They likely understood that Harry was more than a dalliance for Blaise and that Blaise was much more than that for Harry, but for propriety’s sake they would have preferred a formal contract have been drafted and committed to prior to all of the fornication and public displays of affection. 

Blaise was still slightly pink, but Harry could tell from what exactly. 

“There have been conversations between myself, my mother and Black, and we are working out the terms of the contract,” he mumbled, slightly embarrassed and irritated that Draco had ousted him in front of Harry. He’d wanted to surprise the Gryffindor with the contract.

“There have?” Harry blurted out, really craning his neck to see Blaise. “Shouldn’t I have some say is the _contract_?” 

Blaise leaned down and pressed a kiss to the top of Harry’s head. “Of course Harry, you will. As custom dictates, I am first supposed to ask the permission of my head of household – my mother – and then the permission of yours. Once I have received their blessing, I am to then make my intentions known to you. As you can see, I may have went about things in reverse order. However, at the time that seemed the most natural way to go because you were leaving for a dangerous mission, and I did not want to risk,” he paused to clear his throat, clearly troubled when thinking about those uncertain days. 

“I did not want you to pass through the veil without knowing how I truly felt. In addition, you Godfather was no present for me to ask.”

Harry blushed and remained silent for a short spell. “This all sounds so Victorian,” he laughed with pink cheeks. 

“That was the muggles’ best era,” Draco commented haughtily, but still appeared just as stunned as Harry that all of this had been happening beneath their noses because he couldn’t fathom when the boy had had the time to do this. “So now you are working through the Sirius’ terms of courtship?” he asked, turning to Blaise. 

“Yes, I am almost of age now, and will be too. I must do things properly for Harry’s sake.” 

Draco hummed and nodded. He expected nothing less from his friend, and he felt that Harry deserved nothing less. He was merely surprised that Blaise was addressing it so soon. Sirius had just been granted leave of bed rest completely in the last few days. Draco had known long ago how serious his best friend was about Harry. This merely solidified things; he was happy for them, but he couldn’t help but think wistfully about his own relationship with William Weasley. As each day went by with little no contact with the older red head more and more doubts began to fill his head. What if little by little his father was running the man away? Draco knew that if his father deemed him unworthy or if William refuse the terms his father laid down then Draco could not accept him. He wanted a suitor who thought him important enough to 

“My sake?” Harry was horrifying confused. Blaise had asked him to court him, and Harry had accepted. He thought that was the end of it. That there was so much involved surprised him. 

“Yes, Harry,” Blaise smiled serenely down at him. “But we have arrived, so I will explain everything soon after this. I promise. Sirius has charged me with that duty since I pulled you into this blindly.”

Harry frowned, “I knew what I was doing when you asked me…sort of,” he mumbled. He had at least been familiar with the term if not the particulars. 

“Yes, but in the pure-um…upper levels of wizarding society,” Draco corrected himself quickly with a side glance to the Gryffindor, “things are done a little differently. When a couple enters into a courtship with the intention to marry at some point – which is normally the only serious relationship permissible by ones parents, especially in the case of family heirs like you, Blaise, and myself, certain steps have to be taken in a very specific manner for it to be-”

“Draco,” Blaise interrupted, sending a cutting glance at the blonde. “I would like to explain this to Harry if you do not mind.” 

Draco held up his in a placating gesture, “Sure, sure.” 

“Isn’t this something Sirius should be explaining to me? It sounds a lot like the birds and the bees talk that the Dursleys’ gave to Dudley.”

“What does this have anything to do with birds and bees, Harry?” Draco asked, appalled. 

“Um, never mind,” Harry said scratching his head and stepping away from Blaise to take a seat at one the conjured desks in the large empty room. Blaise said that it was one of their smaller ballrooms, but it seemed to be only a little smaller than the great hall, and to think that there were larger ones someone in the manor was a little intimidating. Just how much wealth did the Zabini’s possess. It must be along the same lines as the Blacks and Malfoys, certainly. 

“Don’t think we’re done talking about this,” Harry said. “I want to see this contract you guys are talking about, and I want to have a say in the terms. I will not be kept in the dark,” he stated firmly. 

Blaise grinned at him, happy that Harry wasn’t thinking of backing out of the courtship or shying away from something that sounded as binding as yet another magical contract. 

“Alright, I see that you have all made your way here,” Sirius’ voice rang out into the room as he strode in from a side door with a cocky grin and light indoor robes billowing behind him. Sirius seemed so at home in large dwellings like this. Harry was going to make sure that his Godfather lived as the Lord of the Most Noble and Ancient House of Black should. Though he might deny it, Sirius was raise in opulence – insane though most of his family was – and he deserved to live in it. 

\---:::---

“Now focus,” Sirius instructed the three teens in front of him. He had just been released from bed rest recently and the potions master was supposed to be helping him teach the boys this new technique. Obviously, that wasn’t possible because the surly potions master is now on bed rest himself.

However, due to his tenacity, Sirius knew the man wouldn’t be down for long especially while he was under Lady Malfoy and Zabini’s care. During Sirius’ own time of convalescence, Bahiti and Narcissa had been diligent nurses, administering his potions daily, making sure he was fed on schedule, and seeing that he absolutely did not move from his bed except to use the loo three to four times a day.

It only took two days after moving to Zabini Manor for Sirius to become stir crazy and desire freedom to roam the large home as he pleased just as his godson did. The only time he’d spent with Harry since being rescued from the veil were the few fleeting visits the boy was allowed to make. Harry never missed one, and he was never late. However, he was only permitted to remain with Sirius for an hour at a time, three times a day. 

That just wasn’t enough for Sirius. Honestly, no amount of time would be enough. He’d missed so much of Harry’s life, and he’s going to spend the rest of his own making it up to Harry while still taking a little time for himself.

“I am,” Harry gritted out, disrupting and scattering Sirius’ thoughts like wind sweeping through smoke. 

Sirius glanced up at him and stood to walk over. He placed a hand on Harry’s shoulder, “You need to relax, Harry. Just like with the full transformation you have to allow the change to flow through your bones.”

“These aren’t my bones,” Harry sighed, flopping down onto the desk in front of him in mental exhaustion. 

Sirius nodded and pondered the problem. The animagus was trying to help Harry make use of the individual traits of his animagus form without fully transforming. Sirius often used the heightened sense of smell of his dog form; the change was so seamless at this point that sometimes he didn’t notice when it happened because he didn’t sprout the full snout. He simply altered the inside of his nostrils to increase the number of olfactory cells from a few million cells to hundreds of million cells, subsequently increasing his scenting capacity by staggering margins. Yes, his nose grew slightly larger, but it was hardly noticeable by those who weren’t close companions of his. 

He was trying to help Harry do the same with his eyesight. Luckily his animagus form wasn’t a blind mole or a bat. Harry’s form was a harpy eagle. He made a pretty picture once transformed, black and white feathers, the color fading to gray at the head and crown and the legs. His flight was majestic. Sirius expected no less from a boy who was never happy with his feet on the ground. 

When upset the harpy eagle’s fiery temperament is immediately noticeable when the feathers on their heads rise along with their temper. It matched Harry’s natural rat nest hair, and the feathers upon his head did not lie as flat as they would in a normal harpy eagle at rest, but that was to be expected as Harry’s natural traits shown through in the bird. 

The females were larger than the males of the species which made sense with the mother’s protective nature and Harry’s smaller size as a bird was expected regardless of the animal’s natural characteristics because of the boy’s short stature. With the fearsome, protective, and courageous personality traits commonly cited in the bird, Sirius couldn’t think of an animal that suited his godson more. 

This new technique Sirius was teaching the boys was a technique that he had created and perfected himself. As far as he knew no one else attempted to channel specific animal traits while still in human form. He knew for absolute certain that no one in Britain was teaching it. Such a feat came with inherent dangers that most animagi were not willing to chance. When attempting to force one trait forward while suppressing the others can be dangerous because the transformation must be seamless and become second nature. Picking one trait alone fractures that process making the witch or wizard more susceptible to accidents, especially if the trait you’re focusing on is one that you take for granted when transforming and pay little attention to.

In theory, the witch or wizard transforming should possess a very intimate understanding of every characteristic and physical feature of their animal, but it rarely happens like that, some things just flowed naturally with the transformation like eyesight for example which is what Harry was working on harnessing. 

It wouldn’t be a permanent remedy for his poor eyesight. However, it would come in handy in dangerous combat situations. He could lose his glasses when fighting. Or, on a more positive note he could potentially gain an edge because the harpy eagle’s eyesight was sharp and crisp as to be expected with any bird of prey. 

“Blaise,” Sirius called, “how are you fairing? Draco?” 

Both Slytherin boys were focusing on improving their hearing. In the coming months, after they have achieved perfection with these first tasks, Sirius wants them each to increase sound, sight, and scenting capacity. For the moment though, he was taking it slow because he would accept nothing less than perfection for such a delicate endeavor. In times of need, they would need to be able to make this minor but sensitive transformation instantly and flawlessly at the drop of a hat, so it was best to perfect one at a time before adding other animal traits.

Both boys shook their heads in disappointment. They were struggling as much as Harry. 

“Don’t get down on yourselves boys. You have only just mastered the full transformation. This new task is very advanced and difficult. When transforming, most people often pay little attention to the changes occurring to their five senses. You feel that making sure your limbs, head, and organs transforms correctly requires more of your concentration, yes?”

“Certainly,” Blaise answered. “The rest just follows, so I never think about it.” 

Sirius nodded; he’d figured as much. 

“I feel the same,” Draco said, raking his hand through his blonde hair. “I think little about the minor details in lieu of the major ones. I cannot fathom having a fox’s tail sticking out of my arse if I don’t visualize the whole,” he muttered with a shudder. 

Blaise and Harry snickered at the visual, and Sirius’ trademark barking laugh filled the room as well. “I take it McGonagall showed you all that gruesome memory from her time at Hogwarts.” 

“It was positively vile,” Blaise grimaced. 

“I can’t imagine something like that happening to any of you,” Sirius assured them. “That wizard didn’t possess a third of the talent that I see in the three of you.”

“Well naturally,” Draco snorted. 

Harry rolled his eyes and stood up, “We’ve been at this for hours Padfoot. I’m hungry.” 

Blaise turned to him, “Shall we take a break?” 

Sirius smiled a little. Blaise was always so attentive to Harry. The boys all spoke quietly and Sirius turned to clean up the room with the flick of his wand. The desks and chairs raced across the room into a large closet. 

“We’ll see you later, Siri,” Harry said, walking over and giving his godfather a small hug as he always did when they parted. 

“Of course Harry,” he said, returning the hug with a grin. “I want you all to practice your transformations, and once you have completed it focus closely on the sights and sounds around you and how they manifest themselves in your mind. I do not want you to mess with the transformation process at all. I just want you to become very familiar with the effects of the targeted senses once the transformation has been achieved. That should help you harness the senses in your human form.” 

The boys nodded before exiting.

\---:::---

“I’m starving,” Draco said, stretching his hands over his head as they walked through the corridors. “To the kitchens or should we order food to your sitting room,” he asked Blaise.

“The kitchens, but I don’t think Harry and I will be eating,” he answered.

“Why not,” Harry asked as he and Draco both stopped to stare at the Zabini heir. 

“I want to take Harry out today. I had the elves prepare a picnic basket for us. I want to show you the grounds if you want to,” he smiled at Harry softly. 

“Yes, I want to go. That sounds fun.”

Draco ran his fingers through his hair and sighed and rolled his eyes. “Alright, I’ll just grab something and head to your study to work on my transformation. While you two are undoubtedly being inappropriate beneath a tree somewhere, I will be getting actual work done.”

Harry blushed and punched Draco in the arm, “Shut up. We’re not always doing inappropriate things when we’re alone. We are partners for the charms project, you know.”

Draco arched an eyebrow. “Blaise’s self-satisfied expression says otherwise Potter.”

Harry growled under his breath, “Where is Ama when I need her? I’d ask her to bite both of you in the arse if she were here.” 

Blaise and Draco both laughed as they continued toward the kitchens. 

“Maybe after lunch we can go flying,” Harry suggested.

Blaise smiled softly and threw an arm around Harry’s shoulder. _You can take the boy out of the game, but you can’t take the seeker out of the boy._ “Yes, Harry we can go flying as well.”

Harry stretched up and kissed Blaise on the cheek before following the griping blonde through the swinging door to the massive Zabini kitchen. 

“Sure, ditch me for lunch and flying. I won’t care in the slightest.”

Harry opened his mouth to respond, but was cut off when he ran into Draco’s back. The boy stopped dead center in the room just in front of the entrance. 

“What is it,” he asked, peeking around Malfoy’s back. “Oh,” he smirked, stepping around him to allow Blaise into the room. 

Blaise arched an eyebrow at the redhead in the room. They weren’t expecting Bill back for several days, and yet here he was sitting in the middle of his kitchen, receiving dishes of fruit and cheese from passing elves. 

“Hi Bill, what are you doing here? I thought the goblins needed you for a while?” Harry asked, moving to hug the taller man. Some his long hair tickled Harry’s nose. Bill had his hair loose on this day, letting it caress his shoulder and upper back. He was wearing a pair of fitted dragon-hide pants and a black short-sleeved t-shirt.

“Hi Harry,” Bill grinned, happy to see Harry but refraining from answering his question. He turned to the others and smirked. He’d been in and out of the manor since their suspension began, but not quite able to take part in the everyday happenings of the group. Blaise nodded in greeting before walking away towards a cluster of kitchen elves – likely in search of his and Harry’s picnic basket.

“Talley,” Harry heard him call before he was too far away for his voice to carry.

Harry turned and looked between Draco and Bill. Bill was grinning cockily and Draco was looking pretty baffled by his appearance and slightly cautious, no doubt masking the majority of the emotions filling him up. Bill filled the silence that was slowly growing awkward by asking about Severus.

When Blaise returned he asked, “Harry are you ready?”

“Sure,” Harry bumped Draco on his way out, “still upset you can’t come with us?”

“Yeah, yeah, shut up Potter. Have fun. Eat your food and have a wonderfully, disgustingly sweet date,” the blonde said, waving them both away absently as he looked at Bill grinning at him from the other side of the large center kitchen island. 

“What are you doing here? I thought you were going to be at the bank for a while, at least until Thursday,” Draco asked, coming to a stop across the island from Bill. 

“I left early to come see you,” Bill said, reaching across the wood and running a single finger down Draco’s hand. That small touch was the most the boy had felt from the gorgeous Slytherin since Severus had crashed into the manor days ago. 

Draco’s breath hitched and he flipped his hand and latched onto Bill like a fish after a worm on a hook. 

Bill chuckled and lifted a hand to clear the stands of golden hair out of Draco’s eyes. The boy closed his eyes and rolled into Bill’s hand. Bill gazed at him silently, and the strength of his desire for the Malfoy heir startled for not the first time. 

In the beginning, it was just teasing flirtation, something Bill was known for and not always in a good way. He was a shameless flirt, but he knew when not to touch. However, he’d noticed Draco’s interest immediately the first time they met, and he was not ashamed to say that he was drawn to all facets of the boy including his biting wit, challenging temperament, and childish pouting. 

He couldn’t lie and say that he’d tried very hard to resist because he hadn’t in the slightest not even in the face of Draco’s age – the same as Bill’s youngest brother – or in the face of the boy’s father. 

Bill saw no reason not to court Draco despite not having dated him for months as was becoming the more modern custom amongst the upper echelons of wizarding society. Nowadays, individuals would go out on dates and slide into more intimate acts before deciding that they were likely in love and wanted to bond officially. Once that decision was made, they would enter into a courtship agreement – typically a written contract – for some months, years, or until a certain condition – previously decided upon by both parties and their families – had been met. Once that was achieved they would bond – in majority of cases for life. 

However, in the past, dating _was_ courting. They were one in the same. Interested individuals would enter into an agreement, and after a suitable amount of time and all of the criteria for marriage and bonding had been met they would tie the knot as muggles say, and live happily ever after. If the courtship went badly, then the contract was nullified and the two or three individuals parted under mutual agreement. Dating with a purpose is what his mother always called it, and the Weasley’s were a family that strongly believed in courtship before bonding even if there is an extended period of dating beforehand. Bonding without courtship was an enormous faux pas in the wizarding community, and it left open the door for future challengers. Most would never contest a marriage bond, but some desperate, obsessed individuals would have no qualms about doing so, and proceeding without a courtship and blessing from one’s family made it easier for home-wracking scoundrels. 

So, yes, after acknowledging that his interest in Draco was more than a passing fancy, Bill decided to ask permission to court the boy in order to appease the Malfoy Patriarch, but to also allow himself and Draco adequate opportunity to explore their relationship without much judgment or criticism. He was also adamant about making Draco feel secure about his intentions. He was a Weasley after all, and he was not blind to their past and current animosities. He didn’t want Draco to believe that he was merely trifling with his young heart. Although the boy tried desperately to hide it, Draco was a boy who developed very strong feelings for others. 

“Come here Draco,” Bill said, removing his hand from the blonde’s face and moving to sit back on the stool behind him. As Draco walked slowly around the table oblivious to the kitchen elves bustling around the room, Bill turned around in his seat and leaned back against the island. Once the boy was within reach, Bill grabbed him and pulled his into the space between his legs, holding him tightly into his body like he hadn’t since the night Severus had port-keyed into the manor injured. Considering the situation, the Weasley heir had taken liberties to comfort the boy, and now that things were in a more settled place with Malfoy’s parents Bill wanted to touch.

He slid his hands up Draco’s shoulders to his neck, and he felt the shaky warmth of the boy’s hands on his hips. Draco had a slight tremble to his body that he strove to hide behind a stony determined expression. _Cute, unbearably cute_ Bill smirked. Draco was constantly donning this façade of experience, impenetrable self-assurance and protective arrogance, but beyond that mask Bill felt there was a young man that few ever had the pleasure of seeing. Bill wanted to drag that man forward – likely kicking and screaming in Draco’s case – to show him a different sort of strength that can be found in others around you – a strength that Harry was currently cultivating.

Draco opened his mouth to speak, but Bill silenced him immediately. He pressed his lips tightly against Draco’s and used his height advantage to tilt the blonde’s head backwards, licking inside of his mouth. Draco opened his eyes wide in surprise, but then closed them and dove into the kiss as shivers ran through his body. He chased after Bill’s tongue with desperate fervor. A resonate groan rumbled up his throat when Bill grasped his arse tightly and pulled him even closer to his hard body. 

They separated several minutes later, panting. “I missed you,” Bill rasped and smiled when he saw that mask slide completely from Draco’s face. 

Draco wrapped his arms fully around Bill and placed his ear against his chest. “My father,” he began.

“Shh,” Bill soothed, running his fingers through his silky locks. “It is all ok, but I want you to look this over and make any and all changes that you desire. Do not hesitate to speak with either your father or myself about making drastic changes to the terms.”

Draco dragged in a ragged breath as Bill conjured a rolled piece of parchment and handed over to him. This was actually happening.

\---:::---

_On the other side of the island very near London, Rabastan was experiencing mounting frustration…_

"No, no, stop," Rabastan said, the frustration at another failure finally bleeding into his voice. He stepped back and removed the thick dragon hide gloves he'd been wearing and the magically reinforced goggles. 

Fred and George did the same after lowering their wands. They were trying to work on adapting the muggle communication devices. They wanted to wait on the more dangerous muggle products because they all were hesitant to open that particular can of blubber-worms before the Dark Lord was destroyed. The twins couldn't help but agree. 

"What happened this time," Fred asked, passing Rabastan a cup of tea from the pot they'd kept steeping nearby. 

George passed the man a low dosage pain relieving potion. It was clear that he was beginning to get a headache from focusing on the magic for too long. According to the Slytherin it was similar to staring at a bright light for a very long time, and the strain was becoming apparent. 

"This," Rabastan pointed to the small phone on the table, "is much too small. The magic is bull-dosing through it without course and destroying the muggle components that make it function. Certainly, we do not need all of them, the battery for example is superfluous in the face of our magic, but these here," he pointed next to the floating schematics of the phone they magically projected into the air, “are critical to the phone's operation as we have learned." 

"We know that." George said. 

"But, why isn't it working?" Fred asked. "We have made as much room inside of the phone as possible, and yet the parts inside still burn." 

"You have to guide the magic around the key components, then insert it in such a way as to make it integral yet innocuous. The end goal here is to sync the magic planted in the device to that of one specific user. Then that user’s spark of magic will temporarily link to the magical signatures of other devices as a more secure means of contact than muggle phone numbers and other such rot. The magical signature of the user will seek out the magical signature of the other device and will connect regardless of distance – provided that both users have enough magic to power the device. This would work exactly like a password because the person using the machine can only power it up and activate its various functions if their magical signature matches that of the one stored inside. In addition communication like this cannot be intercepted or listened in on by other wizards like floe calls and letters."

Rabastan moved to take a seat. "The issue here is that you two are too clumsy with your magic when inserting and situating it. The first layer has to be perfect, so that when we give the phone to Harry he can simply say the incantation to insert his magical signature and make the machine his and only his. You have to set the course because no one else apart from us will be able to navigate the inner workings of that confounded machine. The magical foundation is the key and yet you cannot do it," he huffed. 

Fred rolled his eyes. 

"And you believe you could do better," George asked, sitting beside Rabastan with his own cup of tea.

The Slytherin sighed and moved closer to George to make room for Fred on his left side. "No, actually I do not," he huffed again. It rankled to admit that he was incapable to doing something. 

"What should we do?" Fred asked, grabbing Rabastan's hand and rubbing it soothingly. They'd gotten even closer in the last few weeks, but Fred and George had thus far been unable to entice the gorgeous older man into their bed. However, the twins were nothing if not persistent, and they hated to see the man so stressed. Ever since Harry had granted him sanctuary Rabastan had devoted himself to accomplishing this task with the twins to help Harry. As Harry and the Slytherin's relationship grew so did Rabastan's desire to help guide and protect the boy. 

Still, the pressure seemed to be taking a toll. Fred and George could think of several ways to help the Slytherin with his stress, but he hadn’t been very receptive of their overtures. 

"We need to somehow make the magic tendrils finer as we feed it into the machine," Rabastan answered, interrupting Fred and George's twin thoughts. "The circumference of the wand appears to dictate the width of magical strands you are guiding into the phone. We need another conduit that separates the magic into smaller, finer threads, but wandless would certainly never work," he mused to himself. 

Wandless magic was, in general, much stronger and more potent than its counterpart. However, it was more volatile as well. Controlling it well enough for their current purpose would be impossible. Furthermore, they didn’t need such strong magic, they needed- 

“Precision and finesse,” George said aloud, pondering the quandary as well. “We need the hands of a concert pianist.”

Rabastan closed his eyes and imagined the hands of a concert pianist flying adeptly over the smooth pearly keys. The hands were flawless, the fingers nimble, and they moved seamlessly, one finger replacing another on the keys, moving sensually across the instrument. 

_That is exactly what we need_ Rabastan thought. He could just imagine the magic dispersed amongst those fingers, each with its own separate strand weaving independently from each other but emanating from the same source. The magical strands would be much finer than what came from a wand, and it would be perfect for this delicate task. 

Then, like lightening, it hit him – an idea for a new tool to aid them. It would take time, no doubt, to create, setting back their timeline for the entire endeavor. And, it was ambitious, but so was this entire project. Besides, ambition was something every Slytherin had in spades. Rabastan grinned and snatched up the dragon hide gloves lying before him. 

He turned to George, "You are so brilliant. I could just kiss you right now," Rabastan whooped. 

George wasn’t sure what Rabastan was thinking, but he wasn’t going to ignore that kind of invitation. He grabbed Rabastan’s face in a firm yet gentle grip and pressed his lips invitingly against the Slytherin’s. 

Fred slid closer to Rabastan who had turned almost entirely towards his twin. “If you two keep this up, I’m going to get jealous,” he said quietly, watching his brother lean into Rabastan and tilt the man backwards a bit. 

Fred slid his hands around Rabastan’s stomach and slid his hand down over the man’s covered crotch. 

Rabastan groaned and rolled his neck as Fred’s lips attacked it, George’s following directly. Rabastan opened his eyes in slits and stared up at the ceiling. It had been so long since he’d been touched intimately, fifteen years while he was in Azkaban and then this last year he’d been out of jail on the run with his brother and the Dark Lord. 

The two mouths kissing, licking, and nipping his skin were sending uncontrollable tremors through his body. He clenched his eyes closed with a hiss and jerk of his hips when two sets of hands slid into his trousers, one set over his crotch and other grabbing the globes of his ass. It had been so long since he had been with anyone, and the sexual tension between him and the twins had been mounting for weeks ever since they invited him to remain long term in their flat. 

“Shit,” he hissed as Fred gripped his cock tightly and George rubbed persistently at his perineum, “I am not going to last like this.” 

“Don’t hold back,” George whispered, pulling back to watch him, “So gorgeous,” he mumbled to himself, feeling his own cock fill quickly. He and his brother had been dreaming of this day for weeks. Now that it was finally happening, the redhead couldn’t believe how well they fit together. 

“Ahh,” Rabastan groaned loudly when Fred bit down harshly on his pulse point. Fred opened his eyes and glanced over Rabastan’s shoulder at his brother. George licked his lips and took in his brother’s lusty expression. Watching the two together sent fissions of heat down his back towards his groin. 

George wasn’t sure what Rabastan was planning for the phone, but as he tore open the Slytherin’s shirt and dipped his head to run his tongue over the large expanse of skin the redhead decided that it would have to wait. Now that it had finally started, there was no stopping this.

\---:::---

Harry walked through the corridors of Zabini manor beneath his invisibility cloak. It was late and Blaise was sleeping in their shared room. After the wonderful lunch with Blaise and the time they spent flying afterwards, Harry was exhausted as well. However, there was something he needed to do before retiring, and he didn’t want to be stopped on the way. His caution proved fruitful when he glimpsed his godfather leaving Severus’ bedroom and Lady Malfoy undoubtedly walking towards her assigned quarters. Likely, one of them would have tried to turn him back to bed or figure out what he was doing roaming around so late.

Harry would tell everyone his plans eventually but first…he knocked on the door of the study that had been delegated to Lucius during his stay at Zabini Manor. Hopefully, the man was still awake and working.

“Enter,” a smooth voice intoned.

Harry stowed his cloak and opened the large oak doors and stepped into the large cozy room. It was dressed in autumn colors, rich browns, warm orange tones, and soothing crèmes and yellows. Lucius was sitting regally behind an imposing cherry desk. Apparently he’d had it brought from the Malfoy home in Germany. Second only to the one left behind in Malfoy Manor – that was unavailable to him for a number of reasons, namely the death eaters crawling through his home like vermin waiting to pick his bones – this was his favorite desk. 

, he’d told the boys when asked. 

“Yes Harry,” Lucius asked as he looked up towards the door. 

“I am angry.” Harry was working on being more direct, but presently that just manifest itself in distracting non-sequiturs.

Lucius chuckled before looking at Harry more fully, finally taking note of the stormy expression on his face. 

“I can see that,” he drawled and set aside the parchment in his hand. “Do come in and shut the door.”

Harry moved to sit and followed Lucius to the couch by the fire. They sat in silence for several minutes as the blonde waited for the boy to speak. 

“I am so angry,” Harry repeated and clenched his fists. 

Lucius nodded. “You desire my counsel or. . .something more,” he asked with a smirk not unlike Draco’s. However, what was different was the deadly intent behind his eyes and the thrumming magic pulsing around him to carry out that intent. Harry saw it clearly, and he didn’t shy away from it. One thing Harry was learning after spending so much time with Rabastan, but especially Lucius and Severus, was that everyone has their uses. As callous as that seemed, it was true and not taking advantage of those talents and natural propensities was insulting and foolhardy. If nothing else, Harry was done being a fool. 

Each person surrounding him had their own skills and proclivities that would aid Harry in destroying Voldemort once and for all and ultimately help him grow as a man and a wizard. Voldemort surrounded himself with talented, albeit mostly deranged, individuals. The best of those he coveted and kept close to himself possessively. Harry was nothing like that, but he did have people that he loved, respected and trusted with his life. 

The Gryffindor was loathe to call those closest to him his inner circle because that reminded them all too much of Voldemort, and calling them a court was too regal for Harry’s liking. He wanted to be no one’s king. Despite that, they were more than friends, more than family. Harry’s conception of family was unfortunate because he primarily considered family to be neglectful and abusive at worse and absent and dismissive at best.

The group living with him in Zabini Manor and a select few still in Hogwarts superseded his limited conception of family. And, in his own way Lucius was willfully forcing himself into a strong position close to Harry. The Gryffindor liked to believe that everyone near him were equal and even on the playing field in his mind, but honestly that wasn’t quite true. It was more accurate to state that each person existed in their own sphere orbiting Harry. He was the gravitational force anchoring them together tightly to create a unit more effective, efficient, and trusting than they could have achieved if they had banded together without him. Without Harry their conflicting desires and ideologies would ricochet off of each other like pinballs in a muggle pinball machine. 

It was unnecessary to describe Blaise’s position because it was blatantly clear that he filled the position of lover and principle support. How Lucius fit into that picture was a little more complicated – as were Harry’s relationships with Ron, Rabastan, Draco, Sirius and the others. 

Nonetheless, Harry wanted to focus on Lucius because it was his counsel he sought out this night. 

“Both,” he answered seriously. “I am tired of taking only reactionary action against Voldemort. He always makes the first move and takes the advantage.”

Lucius nodded. He knew all too well about that because he was typically the strategist making suggestions to Voldemort in the past. 

“It’s time we take it to Voldemort.”

“Harry,” Lucius began to caution. 

“I know that I lack formal training, but we need to do something or more innocent people are going to be injured or killed.”

“You are thinking of Severus,” Lucius asked. 

“Primarily, yes. I won’t lie. I want Voldemort to pay for hurting Severus the way that he did, but that’s not all. Voldemort has destroyed so many lives, least of all mine, and he will continue to do so if we don’t stop him. Dumbledore is either unable or unwilling to do so, and it has unfortunately fell to me,” Harry said, folding his hands together and resting his elbows on his thighs. Harry’s hair fell on his eyes and his expression darkened. 

“What do you need from me,” Lucius asked. “I will not help you confront the Dark Lord only to be killed.” 

“Certainly,” Harry agreed. “But what we can do is shake him up in the meantime. While I’m in school and training he’ll be too busy dealing with the mess that we create for him, he won’t have time, in the near future, to implement any of his plans. He’s been relatively quiet recently – aside from this recent attack on Severus – and I would like to keep it that way.” 

“What do you have in mind, Harry?” Lucius asked, intrigued. Harry had clearly been thinking about this for some time, and Lucius could admit that he wanted to take some retribution of his own against the Dark Lord for threatening his son and wife. “I will do my utmost to aid you as you must already know.”

Harry grinned mischievously.

\---:::---

“I like it,” Lucius nodded hours later when Harry was done outlining his idea. Something of this nature had never truly occurred to Lucius because he never expected to be in such a unique position in relation to both Harry and the Dark Lord. It was certainly Gryffindor in design and not without risk or imminent danger to Harry in particular, but it possessed a certain Slytherin charm. Voldemort would never suspect it. The main threat would be the close proximity to the Dark Lord as well as the precise execution of each task. Nonetheless, Lucius felt assured that with those closest to Harry – former Death Eaters in particular – they could accomplish them nearly flawlessly. However, most of them would be spread out and separated during the operation which could prove deadly should they encounter any enemies.

That said, the advantages should they succeed would be enormous. The prospects were almost too good to pass up, and Lucius had a particularly strong desire to see the plan come to fruition successfully. He wanted to do this – not before they were ready – but he wanted to see this plan executed. It would restore something very important to the Malfoy family while simultaneously delivering a devastating blow to the Dark Lord, rattling him enough so that the students could likely finish the school year in relative peace without any interference from the Dark Lord unlike in previous years. Furthermore, he would likely think nothing of his horcruxes, given the state of discord his ranks will likely dissolve into.

They had spoken at length for several hours, combing over every detail of Harry’s plan, and he was shocked and pleased by the level of the detail and ingenuity it possessed. More than that he was intrigued by this secret undertaking Harry had tasked to Rabastan and the Weasley twins. Harry was keeping quiet about the details of it, but apparently their completion of the task was integral to the success of recapturing Malfoy Manor. 

Lord Malfoy had only one remaining question. 

“Why come to me first,” Lucius asked although he appeared pleased nevertheless. 

Harry would never consider the Lord as a servant; he didn’t want that, and Lucius was too proud to ever bow like that again. Yet, the Lord took his fealty to Harry seriously, very seriously. It wasn’t just relief to be in a healthy co-dependent relationship between knight and lord. He was committed to elevating Harry to a position where it was unquestionable that a man like Lord Malfoy would trust his life to Harry and alternately risk it for the boy willingly. More than anyone else beneath Harry – which now included Draco and Lady Malfoy, the Lord Malfoy, and Rabastan – he wanted Harry to actively take up his Lordship and become a worthy Lord. 

Rabastan was very eager to help Harry with the inevitable confrontation with Voldemort, but his dedication to his new Lord was fundamentally different from that of Lucius. In a way, Rabastan just wanted to find his way home, find a place he belonged where he didn’t have to be something other than what he was. It was fundamentally pure, what he wanted from Harry. 

Lucius had a true desire to serve a worthy Lord; it was ingrained in his magic from his ancestral past. 

That’s why Harry sought him out first. Harry knew that Lucius’ love for his ancestors and desire to serve and prove himself worthy would be the most expedient route to winning some support to for his plan and achieving his goals. Once Harry garnered his approval and guidance it would be more difficult for the others, even Blaise and Severus, to argue.

\---:::---

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Thank you all for reading! I really hope you liked it. I’ll have chapter 19 posted as soon as I can. Please read and review!


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **A/N: Hi everyone! I know that it’s been a very long time, but I just want to say thank you to everyone continuing to leave kudos and comments and egging me on. I read and appreciate all of them. This fic isn’t abandoned. It’s just that it’s my last semester of grad school before my thesis semester in the spring, so things are hectic. I thought that I would have more time to write, but I really haven’t. It has been a pain, writing a bit here and a bit there. But I’m still here, thank you all for continuing to read and comment. The author’s note at the end of the chapter is a little long, but I encourage you to take a look at it.**
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> **P.S. this chapter is a little shorter than my norm (only ~5,800-6,200 words not including the author’s notes) because I didn’t want to make you all wait longer for the chapter, so let me know if you all would like shorter chapters with more frequent updates or longer chapters. I can’t promise a steady schedule at this point, but shorter chapters would logically come out sooner. Now, without further ado…**

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Chapter 19

“Harry, MOVE!” Blaise shouted just as blast shattered plaster above his head.

Harry ducked and rolled to the left behind a large piece of rubble. 

“ _Bombarda!_ ” a voice shouted out across the room. Draco’s garbled shout of surprise and pain reached Harry’s ears, and as he panted he heaved up onto his feet. 

“Perhaps you should pay more attention to your own surroundings, Mr. Zabini,” Severus drawled, unimpressed. He sent a silent tripping jinx at the boy’s feet that sent the Italian sprawling into a pile of rubble. It was quite undignified, but had Severus been a Death Eater the outcome would have been much worse. 

“Mr. Potter should be able to handle a simple _bombarda_ to the head by now. Surely, he has been taught to duck,” Severus sneered before turning to give them the opportunity to regroup somewhat. 

Blaise grumbled and dug himself out of the rubble, moving as quickly as possible to reposition himself in a more secure location. This training session was turning into more of mock-battle than anything else. Harry, Blaise and Draco were working together—or rather trying not to be severely injured together—while Sirius, Severus, Lucius, and Narcissa attacked them. The four worked surprising well together, undercutting any advantage the boys’ gained. 

Sirius seemed to be having the most fun attacking them and exposing each of their weakest points, but Narcissa was by far the most dangerous, sending the more vicious hexes at them. Obviously, she had little experience teaching youths because she wasn’t wasting any energy on trying to teach at all, focusing solely on disarming and physically disabling them. 

_“No one on the battle field will be trying to teach you a thing, so do not expect such from me,”_ she told them before they began. _“Teaching will wait for the end when we discuss once again why you were defeated,”_ she had smirked. 

For the moment, Narcissa and Lucius were advancing on Draco, cornering him on the right side of the mock battle field, and Sirius was working his way out of a lucky incarcerous spell with Severus’ help. 

“This isn’t working,” Harry panted, trying to catch his breath during this brief respite. Sure, it was at the expense of Draco and Sirius, but when Harry saw the swift streak of a white fox dart between the two attacking adults and disappear into the rubble he didn’t feel too badly. 

“Severus is right, Blaise. We need to focus on the task at hand and working as a team. You can’t dart off to help me at every hint of danger. Look at Draco all alone over there when we could have been helping him. Now he’s a furry diversion. And for what? We don’t even have a plan of attack to utilize and take advantage of this opportunity,” Harry panted, frustration bleeding into his voice. 

Blaise grit his teeth, “What would you have me do? Let you get your head blown off,” he growled, equally irritated. 

“That was hardly going to happen? I can cast a simple shield spell, Blaise.” 

“What are you so upset about? I was helping.”

Harry shook his head, “No. Helping would have been moving stealthily to disarm or disable the attacker rather than distracting both him and myself when I was not in a dire situation, or moving to help Draco who was facing two combatants rather than just one.” 

“Yes, Harry please continue since you know so much more than me and have years more battle training and experience. Surely, heading that defense club of yours and killing centuries old magical snakes has afforded you wisdom beyond your years.” 

“That’s not what I’m trying to say,” Harry argued, losing sight of the situation surrounding them and turning to face his boyfriend directly. “I am merely noting that they are continuously wiping the floor with us, and following me around endlessly isn’t helping.” 

“I have saved your arse more times than you clearly care to count, Harry.” 

“I’m not denying that, but I don’t need that right now. We’re training Blaise; it’s not life or death.” 

Blaise stood stock still in shock at Harry’s tirade and stared at Harry through the chaos around them, before having to duck a whizzing spell. The two were thrust back into combat silently without a word.

\---:::---

“Blaise?” Harry called to the Slytherin’s back. When he didn’t stop to acknowledge him, Harry jogged forward and grabbed his arm. They were done with the debriefing of their training session, and as they suspected it didn’t go well. None of their instructors had anything nice to say about their performance.

Blaise stopped and looked down at him. His eyes were guarded and his mouth drawn into a tight line. 

“Stop. Please. I’m trying to talk to you,” Harry looked at him imploringly. Harry felt sticky and uncomfortable for a number of reasons as he stood before his unspeaking boyfriend. He ran a self-conscious hand through his hair and pushed his glasses up his sweaty face. 

Staring at Blaise’s face and seeing nothing but that Slytherin mask reminded Harry of his first weeks getting to know Blaise. That was only a few months ago, but it seemed so far away it was startling to witness now.

“You’re angry with me?” Harry asked, but he felt as though the answer was apparent. They’d fought which they’d never really done before. They had small disagreements often, usually when it concerned one or both of their safety. Typically it was Harry’s because no self-loving, self-respecting Slytherin would find him or herself in as many life-threatening situations as Harry Potter. It was unthinkable, dreadfully so. 

Blaise sighed, and his shoulders slumped slightly, “No, Harry, I am not angry with you.” 

“Then stop looking at me like that,” he retorted, crossing his arms tightly. 

“How would you have me look at you?” Blaise asked tonelessly. 

Harry grit his teeth. “Is that how you want it to be? Then fine. You know exactly what you’re doing, and I’m not going to have this conversation right now with you staring down at me so condescendingly. When we’ve both calmed down, we can speak then.”

Blaise watched transfixed as Harry spun away from him and stormed down the hallway, his magic pricking everything as he strode away. Blaise growled and turned in the other direction. He wasn’t an idiot. He knew what Harry was talking about, but Blaise was still roiling inside, angry not at Harry per se, but with their poor showing in the battle room, and the way they had yelled and screamed at each other when they should have been focused on the task at hand.

It was so unlike the Slytherin to be swept away by his emotions and lose sight of a battle. As much as Harry was changing by association with him, Blaise was also changing in ways he never imagined. He never imagined he’d be so drawn out by Harry that he’d raise his voice needlessly and put his emotions on display. 

No, he was upset with Harry, and yet he was distressed by Harry’s anger with him.

“Son?” 

Blaise looked up. Apparently, he had walked unknowingly into his mother’s favorite parlor. 

“What is it Blaise,” Bahiti asked, “I have not seen that level of consternation on your face since you were seven years old and that little village girl Sherry, I think it was, beat you at wizarding chess.” 

“She truly was a horrid girl, Mother,” Blaise mumbled, moving to sit on the settee next her. 

“Ah! Blaise Zabini! You smell like a stable boy in the middle of July. Do not dare to sit on my favorite settee like that. The stench will never leave it.” She took a dainty sniff. “As it is, I daresay it will never leave you! What on Earth prompted a visit in such a manner? You really do smell awful, my son,” she admonished sternly. 

Blaise looked down at his disheveled appearance and sighed again. His mother tolerated a lot of things, and she wasn’t as strict as Mrs. Malfoy—more apt to have a chase with her young son in the garden when he was a child than any of his friends’ mothers—but she did not abide slovenliness. For all of her playful ways, she would not suffer anyone to say that the Zabinis were unbecoming of their station, and that extended both inside and outside of their home. 

“My apologies mother. We had a difficult time during training this afternoon. Professor Snape has taken sanctuary with Lord Black and is now back on his feet as you know. So, he has joined the Malfoys and Harry’s godfather in putting us through our paces, and I fear that not only are we not improving, we are getting worse. More than that, I embarrassed myself by arguing with Harry in the middle of a battle, practice though it was. Harry believes me to be angry with him, and well,” he trailed off and looked to the left at the waving image of his father. He truly wished they had gotten his portrait drawn before his sudden death. He knows that it would have been both a torment as much as a comfort to his mother, but Blaise would have cherished speaking with him about this…about anything really. 

“I see,” she said slowly, setting aside her tea cup. “Well,” she drew her wand and directed a powerful scorgify at her son, watching his shiver as the magic washed over him. “That will just have to do for the moment. Come sit, and tell me about it.” 

Bahiti sat with her son curled next to her for the next two hours as he recounted not only the training session today but the ones that came before it as well. Finally, he told her how all of those failures culminated in the mess a few hours ago. 

“He is not wrong, ibni, and moreover he is an independent young man. Surely you see that.” 

“Yes, I do mother, but he is…Harry is just so…I just…I do not even understand or recognize myself any longer mother. Some of the things Harry said were painfully true, and I should have known better, but when Harry is…It is just so…I-” 

She laughed lightly and ran her fingers through his curls soothingly. “You are but a man in love, my son. You will have days like these. Many more by my estimation. After all, you are your father’s son, my Blaise.” 

Blaise sat up and looked at his mother. His eyes were wide and his expression open with amazement. His mother did not stray away from the topic of his father like it was the plague that would kill her upon first exposure, but rarely did she compare Blaise to him. She always said that Blaise was a perfect mixture of herself and his father and to compare him too closely to one or the other was an over-simplification of her son.

Lady Zabini smiled softly, dragging him back down to her side, “He was always so serious and protective, calm when I was not and quietly snickering when I was laughing out loud. Before we met, his mother said that he was like an expansive lake frozen in winter never to be disturbed until he was good and ready, and even then he was calm and discerning when he took action. But, then,” she paused dramatically as if telling a story to a first year. “He met me. Your father was a fool for me and I him. But, to hear others tell it I was always a bit of a fool,” she huffed.

“Your father never changed except when it came down to you and me. If he believed me to be insulted, he took it personally and everyone had to hear of it. He loved us dearly, though I doubt you remember, and he was immensely protective. The only time he ever became angry with me was when I had done something needlessly dangerous.” 

Blaise took comfort in his mother’s words and his father’s likeness in this way. 

“When you find yourself in love son, this is the way of it. No one wants to be hurt, and when you love someone you take on the burden of their pain and suffering, their safety and security. How you deal with that will come from how you prepare for the inevitable. One day he will get hurt. You cannot stop it my love,” she told him as he stiffened beside her. “But, you can and will prepare for it. That is what this training is for, no?” 

“Yes mother, but Harry is…” Blaise still couldn’t put it into words. “I feel as though I could never be prepared enough.” 

Bahiti nodded thoughtfully, “Then you cannot be the man that he needs.” 

Blaise stiffened and the cushions beneath him felt like the most uncomfortable chair in Snape’s dungeon. “What?” he rasped.

“Harry has been called for something higher than the average man and always will be in some sort of danger, ibni. Surely you understand this. You must fortify yourself to be a pillar of strength he can depend on without thought or worry, to be someone who will support, guide, and counsel him in all things and be not where you want to be but where he needs you to be. Life will not always be a battlefield Blaise, but while it is, where he needs you may not always be at his side or his back no matter what you may desire. If you cannot accept and adapt to this then you cannot carry this burden. I cannot carry it for you, and he can only tell you what he needs. Much of it you already know because I have taught you better than you have behaved today,” she chastised lightly, flicking him on the forehead. 

“That goes both ways for the both of you,” she continued. “You must support each other and give and take in turn. Hovering over Harry at all times is not what he needs, but rather it is what you want, Blaise. That level of concern is currently a novelty for someone raised as Harry was, but it will not always remain so, and one day that overbearing behavior will not do you any favors. This is a lesson your father and I had to learn as well, and my son I know it is a bitter one. We strive to protect the people and things we love most because we give over so much of ourselves to them, and we do not want to lose ourselves. It is a self-preservation mechanism, and what is a Slytherin if not self-protecting.” 

Blaise nodded, and Bahiti stood and kissed her son on the forehead. 

“The two of you both have much to learn. It is not just you alone my son who must grow into this, but I have no doubt in my mind that you will both learn how to love one another,” she said with a warm smile before turning to leave him to think. “And, in the meantime you should contact Alessandro. I think that your current tutors have lost sight of the goal here. The three of you need a true instructor. Furthermore, I think both of us have had enough of you being knocked around. I have word that he will be in Castelsardo for a very short time. I would suggest taking your leave immediately.” 

Blaise grinned, “Yes, mother.” 

“I have enjoyed our talk Blaise as always,” Bahiti said, pausing with a hand on the door knob, “but if you come into my lovely parlor smelling like last night’s catch from the wharf again I will string you up by your toes. Have a goodnight,” she grinned and closed the door on her son’s laughter.

\---:::---

Blaise always found the floo to be slightly disorienting the further his destination was. Honestly, he would have preferred to have used a portkey for the entire trip rather than the short portkey and three floo-jumps it took to reach the large wizarding town beneath Castelsardo.

Muggle Castelsardo was a charming colorful little medieval town located in Sardinia, Italy overlooking the Mediterranean Sea. The Wizarding town beneath it was a sprawling metropolis, much larger than Diagon Alley. Blaise wished that Harry could have accompanied him on this trip because he's sure the Gryffindor would have enjoyed the sights. As far as Blaise knew, Harry had never been off of the British Isles, spending his school holidays at Hogwarts Castle and his summer with the muggles.

Wizarding Castelsardo was brilliant and bright with charmed natural sunlight despite its subterranean level. Looking up into the sky, the smaller city and carved tunnels leading up and the enormous cavern ceiling that encompassed the city were entirely transparent. Blaise could only imagine the spell work it took to sustain such magic. 

The place itself was a study of contradictions. When out of doors and looking up to the sky, it seems so very far away, but the birds and clouds were clear as day. If you looked out of a window facing the sea, you saw not the horizon but likely a puffer fish or stingray swimming by. The coast did not look out onto the sea; it looked out into it. It was enough to give any newcomer a disoriented feeling, and many could not stand it for long periods without visiting the surface for some hours. It took days for first visitors to acclimate, but once they did they could truly appreciate all that the city had to the offer. 

Unfortunately, Blaise couldn't partake in much of it on this occasion. He was here for a single purpose, and then he must return home to Zabini Manor post haste. Besides it seemed a bit unfair to vacation in Italy while Harry and Draco were home likely wondering where he'd gone and spending time drilling with Severus and Sirius for their next training session. Hopefully, with the help that Blaise was acquiring they would fare much better than they had thus far.

\---:::---

Bahiti looked up at the knock at her parlor door. This was the second visit in as many days, which wasn’t unexpected. Blaise had left for Italy shortly after their talk. Surely, in his exuberance the foolish boy didn’t speak with Harry.

So when the Gryffindor slipped his head through her door, she waved him in with a knowing smile. “Do come in Harry.” 

“Oh no, I don’t want to bother you. I was just looking for Blaise.”

She smiled wider and tugged him into the room, “It is no bother Harry. I would like to speak with you. Also, you will not find my son upon these grounds this day.”

That gave Harry pause. 

“Sorry, what? Blaise isn’t here? Do you know when he will be back? Where did he even go?” Harry’s slew of questions was nearly never ending. 

Bahiti laughed lightly and clasped the boy’s hand to pull him down to sit with her. “Harry. Peace Harry, be calm. I do not know exactly when my son will return, but it will likely be soon,” She rushed to assure him at his startled, slightly panicked expression. His body was tense with a struggle between inaction and the desire to get up and do something, anything. 

“I don’t understand,” Harry said baffled, slumping into the couch. “He didn’t tell me that he was leaving. In fact, I haven’t spoken to him at all since our last training session.” 

Harry sighed and laid an arm across his eyes. “This is because we fought yesterday, isn’t it?” 

Bahiti only hummed non-committedly, allowing the boy to talk. 

“You know where he went?” Harry asked peeking up at her. 

Bahiti leaned forward and poured them both a cup of warm tea. “Harry, how do you feel about my son, and be completely open and honest with me,” she directed sternly, pulling his arm away to look at him directly. “And sit up straight in the presence of a Lady. I will not tolerate slovenliness, Harry dear,” she admonished.

Harry shot up straight. 

“Now, take your tea. It is time for you and I to speak frankly.”

“Yes ma’am,” Harry said. 

“Now,” she smiled openly, “please answer my question.” 

Harry gazed into his swirling tea nearly transfixed.

“Blaise loves you,” she murmured, placing a warm hand on his shoulder. “It is quite obvious as he makes no pains to hide it.” 

Harry looked up with a small smile. That was true. Blaise was always so openly affectionate with him, and he loved every moment of it no matter how much it made him blush.

“I feel the same,” he whispered with a smiling blush. He grinned and spoke louder. “I love Blaise too. It seems to have happened fast, all at once, but…”

“Hmm,” Bahiti prompted. 

“We fought yesterday. I think it was worse than the usual arguments, and he didn’t come back to the room…”

Bahiti arched a delicate eyebrow that turned Harry bright red. Both he and Blaise knew that Harry was given his own room adjacent to Blaise’s and that they technically they shouldn’t be sleeping together. Their guardians just chose to ignore it due to their extenuating circumstances. By the time it mattered, they had already taken that step. Nevertheless, Blaise and Harry knew how important it was to their parents that they conform to convention in this matter as much as possible, so in the last few days they have worked to remain as chaste as was possible for the two of them—heavy petting and snogging mostly. It helped that the last few days they have both been too tired and sore to do more than kiss a little then sleep. 

“I spoke with Blaise last night before he departed. I had hoped he would have spoken to you before leaving…that silly boy,” she shook her head fondly. 

“So he is still angry with me then,” Harry stated. 

“Hm, I do not truly believe so, Harry. Blaise is not angry with you, and he certainly would run away or disappear after a disagreement. Surely, you must know my son better than that.”

Harry nodded. He did. Blaise wasn’t a coward, and he wouldn’t worry Harry by leaving him to fret over a fight. 

“So, where is he? I wanted to talk about this,” Harry said, withdrawing his wand and muttering an enlargement charm. A piece of rolled parchment that Bahiti hadn’t noticed grew in Harry’s palm. 

“Is that the courtship contract,” she asked, noting the familiar design along the rolled edge. 

Harry nodded. “Blaise presented it to me not too long ago, but I have yet to sign it. I know that you and Sirius reviewed and agreed upon its terms, but I want to make a few minor changes.” 

“Oh? Might I see it?” 

Harry hesitated, holding it just out of her reach. He’d pulled it out initially because he wanted to discuss it with someone, but since Blaise was M.I.A. he thought he’d like to discuss with Bahiti. However, now that the moment was here, he felt oddly protective of the little piece of parchment. It seemed that enough people aside from Harry and Blaise had pawed at it, and he was ready for just the two of them to claim ownership of it. 

Bahiti smiled kindly at the boy before she stood and brushed out the slight creases in her skirt. “I would like to stretch my legs Harry. Will you join me in my private garden? Blaise has his own, but he rarely visits it. He would much rather fly around the pitch. His is much neglected as a result an unsightly thing, but mine I find very pleasant.” 

She held out her arm and waited for Harry to escort her out of the parlor and outside to her garden. 

“Now, you may put that away. I believe my memory serves well enough, so you can go ahead and tell me what you are thinking without showing me the specific changes you have suggested. Sirius has accepted my son’s bid to court you, and I have given my consent as well. Certain large clauses are non-negotiable throughout your courtship, but I assume Blaise would have pointed those out to you.”

Harry nodded. “Yes, he did, and I do not have many issues at all. Honestly, I’m not sure about this entire process or why exactly it is necessary.” 

Bahiti nodded. “In the past, it was to make sure that youths remained pure and focused on strengthening an emotional bond before a sexual one. So, the courtship would outline a code of conduct for the couple. In the past, it was a strict guideline as well as a proviso or failsafe for someone who might take advantage of their partner. Despite the pros, there were issues with the courting contract as well.” 

“Like what?” Harry asked. 

“Well the primary issue with the courting contract was how serious it was taken legally within the Ministry. There used to be an entire division of the Ministry dedicated to sorting, archiving, and enforcing the terms of the contract. All of which had to be based, however loosely, on the Ministry template of standards.” 

Harry frowned. 

“Yes,” Bahiti nodded, “it was disconcerting how much influence the Ministry, a public government, deigned to exert over such a personal and civil manner. If at any point the Ministry raised an issue with the courting, whether brought by a jilted lover or jealous sibling or even a corrupt politician who did not want to see two families joined, the bonding could be held off indefinitely because a Ministry official needed to be present at the bonding to legalize it.”

“What? That’s absurd,” Harry exclaimed. “Is that why Blaise and I have to do this, for the sake of some unnamed outsider?” He found that deeply unsettling and was immediately resistant to the notion.

“In the past,” Bahiti stressed. “Presently, not quite. The act of courtship is a testament of ones love for another. Plus, there is no longer a Ministry division for bonding and courtship. The process has been re-purposed for the personal, and the courting contract is now sanctioned and stored with the goblins in Gringotts as only a record and is purely referential for you and Blaise and your future progeny to look back on. In addition, a completed courtship with a contract are looked well upon in the upper gentry. Though this is a personal matter, there are ways that other families could make trouble, but this will stop any protests if they arise.” 

“So, primarily it’s for Blaise and I,” Harry wanted to confirm. 

“Absolutely, as your parents and guardians, Sirius and I only hoped to pass along our hopes for the both of you and your relationship given the realities that you both live in. By which, I refer particularly to the dangers and pressures your generation—not just you—have to cope with beneath the black shade of the Dark Lord.” 

“Right,” Harry grumbled, both reassured that their contract cannot be used against them nefariously, but also angry about the never ending influence of Voldemort over his life.

“So, no I do not need to see the contract again. I have had my say and impressed upon Blaise my hopes, aspirations, and absolute expectations of your relationship, and now I will share them with you. It is related to where Blaise has gone, so I trust you will be attentive.” 

Harry nodded as they looped back around towards the house. Looking back at the manor, he was surprised how far they had traveled without his notice. 

“Blaise has gone to Castelsardo to find his uncle, his father’s younger brother. He is a dueling champion and expert, and from what I have been told on numerous occasion you boys could dearly use his help.” 

Harry blushed crimson. They were indeed abysmal. 

“Blaise has told me that it frustrates the three of you exceedingly, hence your…disagreement after training yesterday.” 

Harry sighed, “It wasn’t my intention to fight with him or to make either him or myself more upset. We had already been scolded. I didn’t want to add to that, but…” 

“What do you believe the issue is?” Bahiti asked, perching on a delicately carved stone bench beneath a great oak tree in the center of the garden. 

Harry shrugged and pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. If he knew that he wouldn’t be so very frustrated. “I suppose the three of us just don’t work very well together.”

Bahiti nodded, “You have not yet learned how. It will come, and Alessandro will help with that. From what I have heard and seen a little of, it is not your spell work that needs training. You are quick on your feet and very intuitive in battle. The issue is that you do not fully understand how to think strategically in battle about how to use the assets available to you beyond your own mind and wand. Your friends and teammates are assets and tools in battle for your use, and conversely you are for them. You all have yet to learn how to effectively work together. Your instincts have ben well-honed—mostly in one-on-one encounters—over the years, but you are still overwrought with emotion and untried in team battle.” 

Bahiti paused to gaze up at the tree branches longingly, “You all are. Alone, the three of you can be formidable in your own ways. When you are pitted against more than one opponent you each fare exceedingly well, dueling at a level that you should all take pride in. It seems desperation suits you well, Harry,” she laughed lightly, gazing back at the boy. “Although, perhaps we should be little surprised given the number of desperate situations you have found yourself in over the years.”

Harry looked away from knowing expression with a light blush, “They weren’t all my doing,” he mumbled with a pout. 

Bahiti grinned, “Nevertheless, when the situation arises that you are not alone, the three of you make more mistakes than can be overlooked. Likely, when the final battle arrives and even during the skirmishes that will undoubtedly arise between now and then, you will not be alone anymore. Avoidable mistakes during those battles could cost you, my son, or young Draco your lives. This is unacceptable, Harry,” Lady Zabini finished sternly. 

Harry slumped and sighed, nodding. Harry wasn’t a fan of her disapproval. Bahiti was often times carefree while still maintaining the proper level of propriety. To see her otherwise was disconcerting, and Harry felt surprisingly guilty. He could only image that this is how it might have felt to be scolded by his mother or father, or even Sirius if the man could ever bring himself to truly admonish Harry. 

“I will try harder to learn,” Harry promised. “I am just unused to…Blaise is always…I mean have you ever seen? I’m not quite sure what I want to say,” Harry dropped his head into his hands and moved to sit beside his lover’s mother, seeking comfort and understanding. “I just don’t want to see him hurt,” he mumbled into his finger. “Draco or Ron either.” 

Bahiti smiled warmly at him and pressed a gentle hand to his shoulder. “Of course, not my dear. I know that. As I have told Blaise, you must learn.” 

Harry nodded. 

“Not just about combat, Harry.”

“Hmm,” Harry questioned.

“This is my favorite tree on all of the grounds, Harry. Is it not magnificent?” 

Harry looked closer at the large tree with its twisting boughs and large trunk, puzzled by the abrupt topic change. Looking up into the canopy he felt entirely embraced by the tree. “Yes, it is.” 

“British Oaks are my favorite trees in the world. Yet, you will not find its like anywhere else on these grounds. The elves and I exert a lot of energy to keep the leaves in bloom majority of the year. We only allow it to go dormant and recover somewhat naturally in the dead of winter. It is very special to me, you see.” 

Harry nodded without any idea where the conversation was going. 

“Blaise’s father planted this tree for me himself. Without anyone else’s help he dug the hole and nurtured this tiny sapling for two years in secret with his magic and love. Even now I can feel it flowing through each bough of the tree. He gave it life and then gave that life to me along with this garden. We had been bonded in marriage only a few years at the time, and they say that the first five years of marriage can be the toughest. But, he wanted to make it as wonderful for me as he could.” 

“That’s very sweet and thoughtful,” Harry murmured seeing the tree in a different light now. 

“Yes, it was indeed because he was allergic to Oak sap, and the pollen did not do him any favors either, but he made this tree grow and bloom for me, and I settled for just one. You see, harry? When you love someone, you must both learn how to love each other and how to be together in a mutually beneficial reciprocal relationship. There are things that you require of a lover, and I have expressed that to Blaise. In that same vein, Blaise will demand things of you that you cannot disregard because to do so would be to negligently disregard him. Do you understand?”

Harry was silent and contemplative, his brow furrowed and his eyes trained intently on the ground. 

“Yes, I am beginning to.”

\---:::---

"Have seen this man," Blaise asked, pulling out a photograph of his wayward uncle. He had been searching for a few hours, and he was concerned that he would have to stay the night. He hadn't planned on that, and he wasn't actually looking forward to it. He hadn't slept without Harry for weeks, and he didn't want to start now. But, on a less sentimental level he and Harry hadn't made up before he left, and he knew that if you left an argument to fester it could be a monster to get over. Blaise was no longer upset, but he couldn't vouch for Harry.

He was starting to regret leaving without speaking with Harry first. He should have invited him to come with him. 

"No, me dispiace. I have not seen that man in here today, but perhaps you can check at the inn down the way. You might have better luck there." 

Blaise sighed and pocketed the photo. "Thank you. I will do so. If he comes in, can you tell him his nephew, Blaise, is searching for him?" 

The barman smiled. "I will let him know if I see him. Where might I direct him?" 

Blaise thought for a moment, "If I do not find him today, then I will wait for him at the inn you mentioned. If you happen to see him after tomorrow please tell him to owl me or my mother, Lady Zabini. Grazie." 

The man smiled and nodded as he proceeded to clean the bar and Blaise walked out into the evening light. Blaise stretched and decided that he had nothing better to do than to visit the inn that the barkeep had suggested. He wasn’t here to see the sights of Castelsardo, sublime though they may be. He didn’t want to be here long. He should have left a note for Harry at the very least. It was pointless to owl him as he would be home before the owl reached the manor. They really needed a more immediate form of communication that did not involve sticking your head in a fireplace, particularly because many floo lines were not secure especially floo systems connected from public spaces like the inn or bar where Blaise would consider calling from. 

He groaned and his shoulders slumped ever so slightly as he entered the bustling inn. He would never slouch. He could just imagine his mother’s frown now, but he couldn’t help feeling a little impatient with himself and his illusive uncle. 

He walked up to the front desk, praying for information. He had visited several bars already, and if this yielded no results, then he felt it was time to find dinner and book a room for the night. 

“Buona notte, how may I help you young man?” The older attendant asked with a welcoming smile. “Would you like a room for the night?” 

“Perhaps, but first I am searching for my uncle. Have you perhaps seen this man?” 

The woman frowned down at the moving photograph, “I feel as though I have, but I cannot say for sure. These old eyes of mine are not as they once were, and my memory even less so,” she chuckled self-deprecatingly.

“Any information at all will be helpful ma’am,” he encouraged her. 

Trying once again, she squinted at the photo and then a pair of glasses blinked onto her face in a fit of wandless magic, startling Blaise. “Hmm, I believe I have seen this boy. He was here this morning,” she grinned, returning the photograph. 

Relief and excitement blossomed like spring flowers within Blaise, “Do you think he will return?” 

“I suspect that he shall since he has booked his room for several days.” 

“Wonderful, then I will wait for his return.”

\---:::---

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **A/N: First, Castlesardo is a real place. Second, my Italian is rusty so forgive my mistakes if the spelling is off. Third, Habibi (according to Yahoo answers, so don’t kill me) means ‘my dear’ for a male. Now, the page I saw it on said _Endearments for a Couple_ , so if any of you are fluent/familiar with Egyptian/Arabic then please correct me and provide an alternative if this term has inherent sexual or deeply romantic connotations. I am using it (for lack of an alternative endearment) in a purely platonic, mother to son, term of endearment. **
> 
> **Edit: Habibi has been changed to ibni which I was told was more appropriate in this context by a very helpful reader. Thank you alekseyvk!**
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> ****
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> 
> **On a separate note,**
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>  
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> **(BEYOND THIS POINT IS A POTENTIAL SPOILER, BUT NOT REALLY IN DEATIL, SO I THINK EVERYONE SHOULD BE OKAY. HOWEVER, IF YOU DON’T WANT TO KNOW ANYTHING ABOUT UPCOMING CHPATER PLEASE STOP READING HERE.) **
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>  
> 
> **I know that there are a lot of things that need to happen soon in the story’s timeline, primarily what Harry and Lucius were up talking about at the end of the last chapter and how Fred, George, and Rabastan’s work factors into that. And, at the same time, I want to get all of the boys back to school in the next few chapters, so I just wanted to assure you all that it’s all coming in the next few chapters. I just want to make sure that I give every piece/important plot point in the story its due diligence. I wanted to put Harry’s plan in this chapter, but it would take a long time to write and you all have waited long enough for a chapter already, and I was anxious to get this chapter out to see what you all thought about Bahiti and her relationships/interactions with Blaise and Harry.**
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> **Also, I think that it’s fair for me to say that with all of the commotion happening in the story right now Ama has sort of fallen to wayside, but she’s still a very important OC, so I am currently dusting her off for the upcoming chapters.**
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> **Thank you all so much for reading and hanging in there with me. My workload has tripled as I begin my thesis work in the hopes of graduating with my Masters in May, so please bear with me. Please read and review and let me know what you thought about this chapter. **


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **A/N: Hi everyone, Happy New Year! Here’s the next chapter, nearly 12,000 words. Thank you for hanging with me and for all of your continued support. I really hope that you enjoy this chapter. I had fun writing it. Please let me know your thoughts in the comments!**

Harry sat up that night waiting for Blaise, but it didn’t appear that he was returning anytime soon. The Gryffindor had begun the evening pleasantly, stretched out on a white couch. Draco was across from him in a rich green armchair, a common sight in recent days. The three boys spent much of their free time inside relaxing or working in Blaise’s sitting room. It had its own fireplace for warmth and was dressed with green and white leather furniture with beautiful cherry wood wall paneling and flooring. There was one entire wall of windows that opened onto a large balcony that was actually connected the balcony off of Blaise’s bedroom. The balcony doors, however, were shut up tight this night to protect against the frigid night air. 

With a sigh, Harry stood up and stretched. He wasn’t feeling all that well at the moment, so he decided to turn in for the night.

“Retiring early tonight, Harry?” Draco asked looking up.

Harry nodded. “Yes, I’m tired, and my head is bothering me.”

“Hmm, how so,” Draco asked setting aside his parchment. He was reading an update letter from Longbottom regarding their charms project. A couple of hours ago, Harry had joined Draco in Blaise’s sitting room in companionable silence, reading what looked like the messy scrawl of one of Weasley’s letters, but he was giving it up half finished. That was unlike Harry; he loved to hear from Ron about the happenings at Hogwarts. Apparently, if Harry was to be believed, things were getting hot and heavy between Weasley and Lovegood. Draco never would have guessed they would make a good match, but looking at Blaise and Harry and his own budding relationship with Bill, stranger things have happened.

Harry shrugged. “I am probably just fatigued.”

“Do you think it’s because Blaise has been gone for so long?” Draco asked, standing and walking over to Harry by the door. He raised a hand and pressed it to Harry’s forehead, feeling for a fever. “Do you want a pain-relieving potion? I have one in my room.”

Harry smiled wryly at Draco’s awkward mothering and shook his head. “It’s alright Draco. Some sleep should be enough to set me to rights. Also, I don’t know if it’s that. He’s barely been absent a day. If anything I think it would be the distance, opposed to the time, but now that you’ve mentioned it, the bond is likely playing a factor.”

Draco frowned, “Do you want to have yourself looked at? I bet Rabastan wouldn’t mind visiting and taking a look at your magic. Besides, we haven’t seen him much these past two weeks. He’s due for a visit.” 

Harry shook his head, “I will ask him tomorrow if Blaise isn’t back by breakfast. There’s no reason to drag him out now. It’s hardly anything.”

“Suit yourself Potter.” Draco shrugged, returning to his letter. He wanted to quickly read it and pen his response to Longbottom, so he could then finish his book on advanced dueling formations. Much like Harry and Blaise, he was feeling frustrated by the slow pace of their training too, so Bill had recommended this book. They still needed to learn to work better as a team, but there was little they could do about that until Blaise returned. 

“Do tell someone if you are still feeling poorly in the morning though,” he called back, looking to Harry who was nearly completely out of the door. “You’ve done a lot for many of us. Blaise isn’t the only one here who worries about you, you know.” 

Harry smiled, quickly becoming used to the turns of Draco’s personality, at times snippy and barbed like a cactus and at others awkwardly soft with hesitant affection. Harry was really beginning to see why Bill and Blaise found the git so very endearing. “Of course, Draco.”

\---:::---

“Do come to bed dear,” Narcissa called, pulling her long hair into a low tail at the nape of her neck. “You have been working through much of the night for several days now. Just what is it you are working on?”

Lucius hummed without actively listening, his wife’s voice bouncing off of him like a mirror reflecting light. The words didn’t penetrate his psyche at all as he pondered the old scrolls before him. 

“Lu-ci-us,” Narcissa growled, giving his ear a not-so-gentle tug. “I will not be ignored, my darling,” she said sweetly with a shark’s grin. 

Lucius cleared his throat and rubbed his stinging ear, “Of course not dear,” he smiled, gently grabbing her nearest hand, to soothe her ire and protect him from further violence. “It is late Cissa. Are you not tired?” 

“I ask the same of you husband. You have come to my bed after two in the morn for nearly a week and a half now, and I would like to know why.”

Lucius frowned and flicked a gaze to the parchment spread across his office desk. Turning back to his wife, he finally noticed her appearance. Narcissa had removed much of the makeup she donned during the day, switching it for the soothing and softening creams she wore at night. Her skin was fresh and luminescent in the candlelight. She wore a thin champagne-colored silk nightgown with no sleeves and thin straps, one of his favorites. Over that she’d thrown on a slightly thicker robe of the same material and color which she left open, displaying her body. Her light blonde hair was pulled away from her face and neck to cascade like a gentle stream down her back in a loose ponytail. 

Lord Malfoy looked upon his lady with a soft expression of deep-seeded appreciation. Narcissa was just as beautiful and ethereal as the day he married and bonded with her. In fact, she had worn a gown much like this on that night. 

While many wanted to argue that Draco was the spit of his father, in truth his heir was much like his mother. Draco possessed Narcissa’s slight build and pale coloring. Of course he possessed his father’s more patrician facial features, but Lucius had slightly darker skin and a much thicker build with stronger shoulders and larger chest and legs. It was precisely because of the influence of Narcissa’s Black genes that Lucius had to chase many unwanted suitors from his door, several seeking Draco’s hand. Many more he’d had to chase from the boy’s bed over the last couple of years. Sometimes it did not pay to have a son who wanted to both emulate and surpass you in every facet of your life. Of course there was much to be proud of, but Lucius loathed his son’s race to have conquered more lovers than his father had in the past. 

With a wry shake of his head, Lucius couldn’t quite believe that he was somewhat grateful to a Weasley for occupying his son’s desires for however long. Certainly, William was dutiful, pragmatic, and wealthy, truly a credit to the Weasley name that was ever in decline, but he was still a Weasley. Lucius cringed. However much he came to respect and even like the boy, that fact remained to provoke him, like a perverse imp latched to his shoulder. Still, even he could see that William’s steady yet youthful and patient personality was a good match for his son. 

Lucius was not blind to his son’s faults. Draco was brilliant, and Lucius loved him; he had no qualms about his son inheriting the Malfoy name and fortune once the time came, but Draco was petty and spoiled at times. He would need a steady hand in the future to guide and shelter him. It helped soothe Lucius’ mind that William was still a pureblood from a long-standing family and that he had made quite a name for himself in important financial circles. The Goblins—despite William’s theft attempt earlier in the year—would not hear ill of him, and that regard was no small or inconsequential feat. Lucius had learned from his past mistakes, and he was more tolerant, open-minded, and circumspect than in his younger years, but still some things remained. A Malfoy would always seek wealth and prestige in all endeavors, especially in bonding. 

That was why he was being so particular and demanding with his negotiations with William regarding the courting contract. 

Narcissa gazed at her husband for a time as a heavy silence descended upon the room. Apparently, there was much on his mind tonight, “Lucius?” 

“Pardon me, my dear,” Lucius said, giving himself a shake and moving to stand. He removed his wand and shrunk the parchments he was deliberating. “How about we move this discussion to our bedroom. You look chilled Narcissa,” he smirked, peering at her pebbled nipples through the thin night slip she wore. 

Narcissa narrowed her eyes and crossed her arms, “Lecher,” she snorted, turning on her heel toward the hidden door and short passageway to their bedroom chambers. Lady Zabini had truly been kind to them with their accommodations. Their shared bedroom was spacious and generously furnished. They had two separate adjoining parlors—one for Lucius to receive guests and one for Narcissa’s use. Lucius’ was rarely used as he spent majority of his solitary time in the study, also furtively attached to their bedroom. Narcissa would make sure that were just as kind and generous to Lady Zabini if she were to visit for an extended period when they returned to Malfoy Manor…or rather, if they ever returned to it. 

Narcissa sighed as she turned down the bed linens to climb inside. Of course their holdings were by no means small, and there were several lovely townhomes, cottages and even two separate manor houses amongst their land holdings. Not to mention they could always rebuild nearly anywhere they wanted, but Malfoy Manor here in Britain was their home. It was their legacy to Draco and his future family. She wanted dearly to roam its halls once more and hear the laughter of grandchildren, and the genteel raucousness of high-society balls, celebrations, and receptions. 

Oh, how she could remember the times before Draco’s birth and the rising of that damnable man when Lucius would seek her out in her garden or drawing room because he could not await the passing of the sun to have her. She was more than grateful to have escaped the clutches of the evil psychopathic parasitic devil of a Dark Lord that their forebears had cursed them with, but she lamented the shameful they were driven to forsake their home and hearth. Shaking off those melancholy thoughts, she sidled over to Lucius who had showered quickly and changed into his bedclothes to join her. 

“Come now my love, do tell me what you have been working on. You have kept me in suspense long enough. Have you found out some dastardly thing about Draco’s beau, the Weasley heir? A forgotten love child, perhaps one or two mistresses waiting in the wings,” she teased. 

Lucius chuckled, “Dearest, I thought that you liked young William.” 

“Well I like him well enough, but he is a Weasley after all. Besides, Draco is our only child we cannot give him away lightly, surely you agree.” 

“I certainly do,” he nodded, “that is why I know that William is unfortunately the upstanding gentleman that he makes himself out to be with no children or mistress, debt, or otherwise undue magical vows or commitments to be spoken of. He truly is Arthur’s saving grace.” 

“Those twins are not so bad. Self-made entrepreneurs are to be admired these days,” Narcissa commented, laying her head on her husband’s chest. She sighed softly as Lucius’ hands began to run through her hair, tugging away her hair-tie. 

“Mm,” Lucius mumbled, sinking into the mattress and relishing the press of Narcissa’s warm soft body against his side. The swell of her breasts against him never failed to stir him. “That may be true, but I find them much too mischievous. As it is, their frequent visits to our home after the bonding will be all that I can stand of their pranking I am sure. They would have been a terrible influence on our son. I know not how Rabastan can put up with them.” 

His wife laughed, “Rabastan is but a mischievous man himself. I am sure he loves their pranking. He was stifled and lost after his brother’s marriage to my sister. Surely, you remember that Rabastan and Rodolphus were much like the Weasley twins themselves when we were younger. It is a shame that Rodolphus is forever lost to his brother, his mind poisoned by my mad sister and the Dark Lord.”

Lucius nodded, “Perhaps, living with those twins will be good for him.” 

“In more ways than one,” she snickered, surprising Lucius. 

He smiled and glanced down at her, “You certainly are in a mood,” he said squeezing her tightly. 

She squeaked and slid a leg up Lucius’ side. “Do not try to distract me you horrid man. You have yet to answer any of my real questions.” 

Lucius enlarged several of the parchments he’d carried with him from his study, baring them before his wife. 

Narcissa cocked her head and sat up to look closer at the documents. “These are from our vaults?” She hadn’t seen several of the documents since their bonding and many others she had never before laid eyes on.

Lucius nodded. “They were all that I could acquire with my library and study controlled by the Dark Lord. Having many of our family heirlooms and assets cutoff from me, locked away in Malfoy Manor, is like having my right hand bound behind my back.” 

Narcissa sat the documents aside, “What in Merlin’s name is all of this for Lucius? There is detailed information about the layout of our manor, as if we need a map for that. Every inch of that place is cemented in the deepest part of my heart and mind.” 

Lucius smiled. His beautiful wife never failed to inspire overwhelming pride within him. She may have been born a Black, but Narcissa was a Malfoy through and through. 

“There are also texts about ancestral magic, fealty bonds, and the magical properties of ancient manor homes,” Lucius supplied. 

“Lucius, just what is this about?” Narcissa asked. “Be frank with me.” 

“Harry has come to me with a plan to cast out the Dark Lord and free our home of his tainted influence.” 

“What,” Narcissa gasped harshly, voice stuck in her throat like sap to a tree. “How is such a thing possible? The Dark Lord was granted more than average access to our home by the head of the family. He was tied so integrally by your father’s magic that even after you inherited the manor, the Dark Lord’s connection came along with it like a piece of hated property, never to be rid of. It is almost as though he is one and the same with the Manor and our other properties, protected by ancestral magic.” 

Lucius nodded. “I never would have thought that removing the Dark Lord before his death would have been possible either, but Harry is convinced that there is a way, and I have come to believe him more and more after my hours of research. I liked his plan from the start but was only cautiously optimistic. Now I am beginning to truly hope.” 

“What have you found?” 

Lord Malfoy turned to his Lady and spread the documents over their bed, covering it completely. “The crux of the matter is that the Dark Lord hadn’t just been granted access to our home; he is protected on some level by Malfoy ancestral magic, which cannot readily be undone by anyone aside from the caster. I inherit the responsibility of protecting and sheltering anything and anyone that has been enveloped and accepted by Malfoy blood and ancestral magic. In this case, we are lucky that allowing the Dark Lord to remain hidden and protected within the walls of our home is sufficient to fulfill my duty. It seems that despite my father’s devotion to the Dark Lord, he was not willing to give over more of himself than that.

“Weeks ago Harry came to me with the idea of casting the Dark Lord out of our home. Because we were granted sanctuary and swore fealty to Harry all of our assets are forfeit to the boy until he sees fit to relinquish them to us as we have spoken about before. This naturally extends to Malfoy Manor all of which is now under the control of Potter ancestral magic which rivals our own in power and longevity. 

Weasley, the youngest son Ronald, has given Harry the idea that with his claim over us and Malfoy magic he can overcome my father’s past misdeed. By standing in our home at a nexus of conjured Malfoy and Potter ancestral magic and recognizing the Dark Lord as a dangerous enemy, Potter’s magic should rise against the Dark Lord with the force of our own following to cast the Dark Lord out of our halls in protection of the ancestral home. Ancestral magic is at its strongest when protecting the family heir and manor house. 

“This wouldn’t be enough to vanquish the Dark Lord, especially in light of his torn soul, but it would weaken him significantly and likely kill many of his followers unlucky enough to be present on the property at the time of Harry’s attack. This plan, if it succeeds at all, is not without danger as Harry and I fully know. For our own reasons we both believe it to be worth the risk.” 

Narcissa nodded with a grim expression, “And of course he came to you first because you would never deny him in the rescue of your home. Remarkable,” Narcissa whispered, collapsing backwards against the pillows. “I never imagined that Harry would want to do such a thing for us.” 

“The boy is kind,” Lucius agreed, “but he is not entirely selfless. He desires revenge for Severus, his parents, and the countless others the Dark Lord has killed. Moreover, he has grown tired of being the victim, relying on chance and Merlin’s grace to survive the Dark Lord’s attacks. He wants to strike on his own terms in a manner that will truly effect the Dark Lord, doing away with his base of operations. This strike will also give us the much needed time to hunt and destroy horcruxes after the boys complete the second term of this year. If we succeed, the Dark Lord will be vulnerable and in hiding for many months to come. The whole of Wizarding Britain may very well feel the backlash of this assault.” 

“And to think,” Narcissa smiled, hope and excitement building, “a Weasley sparked this idea. Who would have thought?” 

“Yes, another Weasley” Lucius grumbled, staring out mulishly before his tone turned grim. “If we succeed it will still be too dangerous to enter and live there until the Dark Lord has been vanquished for good because we can’t know what sort of traps he may have laid.”

“Yes,” she agreed, but the excitement never left her face, “but our home will be ours again never to be invaded by such darkness again.”

\---:::---

“Harry,” a tired voice whispered in his ear.

The Gryffindor groaned and shifted over in his sleep, simultaneously making room for Blaise and reaching out to him. _I missed you too,_ Blaise thought to himself with a smile. The intensity of the relief he felt at seeing Harry he knows is compounded the magical bond burning between them. Certainly, he had missed harry, but he could feel his chest swelling as he looked at him. He had the insane urge to press inside Harry right then while the boy slept, and he knew that this could only be magical influence, urging them to be intimate because of the stress they had placed on their bond. Blaise was glad to note no other side effects aside from a headache. He’d have to compare notes with Harry in the morning. For the time being, the Slytherin was dead tired and had just enough energy left to strip naked and slide into the bed to sleep, staunchly ignoring the urge to take his slumbering lover. He simply pulled Harry into his arms and buried himself in the familiarity of his bed and Harry’s warmth.

Harry awoke a few short hours later disoriented with fevered skin. He brushed the covers from his body and sat up blinking around the room, trying to see what woken him. It took him but a moment to notice the warm body curled around his side.

Blaise was breathing lightly through his mouth. The arms that had undoubtedly been wrapped securely around his torso, were now limp around Harry’s hips. Blaise’s right hand was grazing Harry’s cock through his shorts which he was now aware was achingly hard.

Upon that realization, Harry became aware of the heated blooded pounding through his veins and rushing behind his ears. With little capacity to wonder about the overwhelming relief and fervor controlling him, Harry turned and pressed his lips to Blaise’s chest, peppering wet, open-mouthed kisses to his hot skin and nipples. He wasted little time moving down Blaise’s body towards his cock, balls, and arse. Harry felt out of control and everywhere he touched Blaise both soothed and scorched him.

“Mm,” Blaise began to moan and shift, slowly waking as Harry’s slick fingers began to probe his arse. Harry slowly ran his tongue up Blaise’s growing erection, locking eyes with Blaise as he reached the tip. Blaise arched his back and threw his head back as Harry found his prostate and engulfed his dick simultaneously.

“God, Harry,” Blaise groaned, fully awakening and grabbing handfuls of Harry’s shaggy hair. He canted his hips up, thrusting shallowly into Harry’s mouth then rocking down onto his fingers.

“Do not stop,” he panted squeezing his eyes shut. His body felt strung tight and his focus was narrowed down to a single point within him. He forced his eyes open to see Harry’s glazed expression. He had never seen such an attractive visage. The moving image before him heightened his arousal tenfold.

“You look so fucking good down there,” Blaise moaned, rocking his hips more quickly. He groaned in negation when Harry withdrew, sitting back on his haunches to stare openly at Blaise. 

Harry’s eyes roved covetously over Blaise’s body; he watched as sweat beaded over that dark skin. The Slytherin’s chest heaved, and his beautifully cut cock throbbed against his stomach. Harry growled wordlessly and grabbed Blaise’s hips with bruising force.

“No one can ever see you like this, touch you like this ever again,” Harry panted in a voice that hardly sounded like his own, his tongue emerging to run across his dry lips. 

Blaise moaned and nodded. He has never seen Harry this way before, so possessive and entirely conquered by lust.

“Never, Harry,” Blaise agreed, pulling him down into a sloppy long overdue kiss.

Harry dropped his full weight on top of Blaise, pinning him to the sheets and nudging between Blaise’s legs to settle on his hips. As their bodies met, Harry experienced a moment of clarity. He looked up into Blaise’s face uncertainly; they had never done this before this way. Blaise simply smiled and nodded wrapping both his arms and legs around his lover. 

It had been quite some time since Blaise had bottomed for anyone, mostly because his last partner before Harry was an older female in Italy. Before that when he was with men his age, they switched often. With Harry, they just hadn’t gotten there yet, but now Blaise couldn’t want anything more. 

He gasped silently at Harry’s probing fingers. He arched as Harry became more emboldened and pressed two fingers inside of him to the second knuckle. 

Harry sat up a little and looked down at Blaise’s face. His eyes were closed, lips slightly parted on breathy moans. As he stared, the heat began to build once more. “Blaise…I feel like I can’t wait,” Harry admitted with a huff, pressing in his third and fourth fingers. He didn’t have much experience in this position, but he just did what he was used to Blaise doing to him, spreading his fingers and opening him up with every rough thrust. 

“It is okay, Harry. Come on,” Blaise urged, gripping Harry biceps and canting his hips forward, meeting every thrust. “I want you to. I want you.” 

Harry groaned and removed his fingers. He grabbed Blaise’s legs and pulled them away from him. The Gryffindor licked hip lips and grazed down at Blaise’s naked body, bright with a sheen of sweat. He ran his hands down the long legs, caressing the smooth skin. 

“You’re so gorgeous,” Harry said, never taking his eyes away from his own roaming hands. As his hands mapped Blaise’s body, his eyes stalked it as well. He grabbed Blaise’s calves and picked up his legs, sliding his hands to palm the Italian’s arse. Harry lifted one leg high over his shoulder, and the second fell to the bed as he grabbed his cock and lined it up to Blaise’s pulsing pucker. 

Harry watched it open and close slightly with anticipation, and precum dripped from his dick down to the sheets. 

“Do it Harry,” Blaise begged, wriggling on the bed. His head was feeling fuzzy and clouded, and all he could think about was joining with Harry. 

Without wasting another second, Harry pressed the head of his leaking dick inside. Twin moans filled the air as he pressed inside until his balls slapped Blaise’s arse. He was so tight inside that the sensation for Harry bordered on painful. It was overwhelming in the best sort of way. ¬¬¬

“Merlin, you feel so good,” Harry groaned. His dick twitched inside as he held still, trying to regain control over himself. “How have we never done this before?” 

Blaise smiled at nothing and clutched at the cock inside of him, “I do not know. Come on now. Fuck me, my Harry.”

Harry clenched his eyes closed in ecstasy and concentration and sweat beaded down his face. “I want to be inside of you all the time,” he panted with each hard thrust, not giving much thought to being gentle. Blaise urged him on with his clenching legs, hands, and arse. 

“Yes, Harry,” Blaise groaned, hitching his hips and throwing his head back with a shout. Harry found his prostate. “Right there. Keep…do not stop.” 

“I can’t stop,” Harry grunted, dipping his head and digging his teeth into the ball of Blaise’s shoulder, his heavy balls smacking Blaise’s arse soundly with each snap of his hips. The sounds emanating from their union were loud and ringing throughout the room. 

Harry began to thrust harder and faster with Blaise gripping his back and thighs, groaning in ecstasy in his ear. They were both at a loss for words, racing towards the end. Harry reached down and slid his hand between them as best he could to grip Blaise’s cock tightly, squeezing and tugging it repeatedly to wring an orgasm out of the man below him. 

“Harry!” Blaise groaned out loud, all of his muscles clenching and massaging Harry’s cock. 

“Shit!” Harry cried, emptying his swollen balls into Blaise. He slumped heavily onto Blaise and dropped his head onto the boy’s collarbone, both of them shivering with passing tremors of pleasure.

Harry pulled out when he began to feel oversensitive and flipped over off of Blaise. Both boys were panting heavily with deeply satisfied, exhausted twin grins.

“Where and why have you been hiding such a beast Harry?” Blaise teased, rolling onto his side to wrap his arms around Harry’s waist and pull him into his chest. Harry went willingly with a bright blush. He was surprised, slightly mortified, and just a little startled by his uncharacteristic behavior. The Gryffindor was hardly ever the aggressor, but he’d liked it. Since it appeared that Blaise had as well, he was determined to switch more often. 

“It was only a day, but I missed you,” was Harry’s only response.

Blaise chuckled, “And I you Harry, but given the results, I believe that I must give you cause to miss me more often,” He smirked.

“Sod off,” Harry grumbled, flushing more furiously as he gripped Blaise and tried to fight off sleep. The last thing he heard before the morning songbirds was Blaise’s deep laughter.

\---:::---

Harry awoke the next morning feeling much better than he had the previous day. Without opening his eyes or taking much stock of anything, he reached out for Blaise. Coming up with nothing but cold bed sheets, Harry finally cracked open his eyes and gazed up at the sunbathed ceiling. The room was warm, and the yellow sunlight pouring in was cheerful. Yet, as Harry sat up fully and peeled away the covers, he felt a chill. _Last night wasn’t a dream. Blaise is back_ , he assured himself.

Harry stood up and pulled on the pants he found crumpled on the floor. He silently summoned his wand and ventured into the adjoining bathroom. “Blaise?” 

Harry looked around, but the room was empty. It was steamy and warm though, so it was apparent that someone, most likely his lover had used it recently. Harry stripped and stepped into the shower as well, turning on the taps and languishing under the gush of water. He emerged twenty minutes later and walked naked into the bedroom. 

“Mm, Harry,” Blaise grinned from where he sat fully clothed on the bed, licking his lips. “You are delectable, my love.” 

Harry flushed crimson and transfigured one of their blankets into a towel to cover himself as he searched for suitable clothes to wear. “Where were you,” he asked, walking over to Blaise’s wardrobe and pulling on a loose fitting button-down shirt over his own trousers. 

“Yesterday or this morning?” 

Harry banished the towel and crossed the room to sit beside Blaise. “I know where you were yesterday; I spoke with your mother. She said that you went to see your uncle, that dueling master you told me about a while ago.” 

Blaise nodded, “Alessandro travels a lot, so it is hard to locate him sometimes. My mother had word that he would be in Italy for a brief time, so I went to invite him here to train us.”

Harry nodded, looking down at his feet, “Did you find him? Did he come?”

“When have I ever been known to fail?” 

Harry rolled his eyes and shook his head, “So your uncle is here then?”

Blaise nodded, “We returned last night, but you were already asleep, until the early morning that is,” he smirked lasciviously. 

“Shut your gob,” Harry muttered beneath a red blush, “or it won’t happen ever again.” 

Blaise chuckled lightly to himself, “I find that very difficult to believe, my Harry. Did I not satisfy you?” 

“Blaise!” Harry cried, pushing the boy off of the bed. “If you don’t stop it, I won’t be able to say what I want to say to you.”

Blaise remained silent, but maintained a laughing smile. 

“I wanted to speak with you before you left for Italy, although I didn’t know at first that was where you had gone.” He grumbled. 

“Harry, I am so-”

The Gryffindor held up an interrupting hand and said, “It doesn’t matter now. I’m just glad you’re back. I felt…strangely unsettled, likely because of the bond. I wasn’t in pain—perhaps a headache—but it was a little unpleasant.” 

Blaise nodded. He had felt the same way. 

“I…I wanted to apologize for yelling at you the way I did after training. I was frustrated, but I didn’t mean much of what I said.”

 

“No,” Zabini shook his head, looking up at Harry, “You were right to correct me. The three of us have much to work on, but I was not helping matters by trying to coddle you.” 

Harry smiled and slid down to join Blaise on the floor. “It’s alright. I know that it’s only because you love me.” 

Blaise turned a soft expression on Harry and reached out to cup his face, “That I do. I do not wish to see you hurt. Ever.”

“That’s what we’re training for right? To learn how to take care of ourselves and each other in dangerous situations?”

Blaise sighed and nodded, “Yes, because there will be battles in the future, undoubtedly. But, I will be with you this time, and I have attempted to stack the deck in our favor by inviting Alessandro. Everyone is waiting for us at breakfast now, in fact. You should come to meet him,” Blaise kissed Harry’s forehead before standing to help Harry up. 

“Wait,” Harry said, climbing to his feet. “I have something else to talk with you about before we go. I want to do it now in private.” 

Blaise looked at Harry critically, “Alright, what is it?” 

“This.”

Blaise straightened up as a piece of very familiar parchment burst into the room with a nearly inaudible puff of air. Blaise slowly turned away from the floating document and kept his eyes fixed on Harry. 

Silence filled the room while sunlight continued to pour in from the window. Harry ignored the heavy atmosphere and Blaise’s staring and reached out for the parchment, grasping it tightly in his hands, very nearly crinkling it. 

“Harry is that-”

“Yes, this is our courtship contract. When you took me out to the pitch on the picnic and presented it to me, you know that I had questions about it, about the stipulations inside, and that I was generally very confused and apprehensive about the whole process.” Harry took Blaise’s hand and steered him back to the bed. 

“Of course I wanted to say yes. I never doubted that, but I just wanted to understand it more. I don’t like not having control over my life, and you already had everything drawn out, with input from every important adult in our lives except for me. It seemed as if I was expected to simply sign and agree.” 

“Harry that is not it at all. Maybe in the past it was this way, but not today, and not with us. I know you, and would never think of-” 

“I know.” Harry interrupted, pressing a light kiss against Blaise’s lips. “I told you that I spoke with your mother, and we talked about many things, including this. I understand it all now, so I’ve signed it.” 

Blaise blinked, momentarily taken aback. “You. You have signed it?” 

“Yes,” Harry grinned. 

Blaise lunged forward, claiming Harry’s lips for a harsh, fevered kiss. “Thank you,” he whispered, pressing his forehead against Harry, wrapping his arms tightly around Harry’s smaller body. “You cannot imagine how happy this makes me.” 

“If it’s anything like how I feel, then I can imagine it. When do you want to go to Gringotts?” 

“Today. Now.” Blaise grinned, pulling back. “Let us go right this second.” 

Harry laughed, “We can’t. We need at least four witnesses. All of which are waiting for us to begin breakfast. And, you must know that Draco would not look kindly on us if we took him away without a bite to eat just to stand in front of the goblins and watch us bleed a little.” 

Blaise groaned but nodded. He could clearly imagine the harping he would hear from his best friend. 

“We can leave it until later today,” Harry assured him, patting the pouting Slytherin’s hand as he tugged him out of the room.

\---:::---

When Harry and Blaise joined the others, the Gryffindor’s attention was immediately drawn to the stranger in the room. Looking at the man, nothing suggested dangerous duelist. He was of small stature, thin like Sirius almost waif-like. He had startling light hair. Spending so much time with Blaise and his mother, Harry expected Blaise’s uncle to look much like his relatives with dark skin and even darker hair. That couldn’t have been further from the truth. Alessandro’s hair—cut short—was wavy like Blaise’s but quite fair, a strawberry blonde color that flirted between gold and blush as if it we kissed by pink roses. The man must have gotten his coloring from a distant ancestor, possibly a grandparent from Eastern Europe.

The newcomer was also quite short if Harry were to be honest, shorter than Ron. Well, that didn’t say too much as Ron was one of the tallest blokes in their graduating class, but Alessandro was shorter than Blaise and even Draco, only a few scant inches taller than Harry. 

As for his personality, Harry couldn’t say yet. He smiled easily, but he didn’t seem as receiving as Bahiti. In that regard, Alessandro was more akin to his younger nephew. Speaking of which, Alessandro was quite young, perhaps Bill’s age, maybe a year or two older. That would put him around twenty-eight or twenty-nine; very young for wizards who could live to be two-hundred-years-old or more. 

When Harry entered the dining area for breakfast, Alessandro was in conversation with Blaise’s mother while the Malfoys were just entering the room for a separate door, likely connected to a hallway nearer to their rooms. Sirius and Severus were already seated at the table, so Harry moved to join them. 

It was a sunny day outside, and if it weren’t the biting winds that Harry new awaited them this early into winter, he might have suggested going for a short walk with Blaise before beginning that morning’s lessons. 

“Harry,” Severus called, snagging his attention away from the large window adjacent to the dining table. “Sirius tells me that your animagus training is moving along well.” 

Harry nodded with a grin. “I’d say. I have gotten very good at transfiguring my eyes, so that I can see in the dark and at a distance during the day. This will come in handy in a number of ways. I would do it all of the time, but I think people might find it strange to see a boy walking around with quite literally eagle eyes.” 

The potions master chuckled, “That they might,” he agreed, sipping the tea before him. “You ought to try dueling with your eyes transfigured this afternoon with our guest to test them and your ability to maintain them in combat situations. If you become adept at it, such a skill would be hugely advantageous in dire situations. I would be interested to know the results after your training if you all get to practical work today.”

Harry opened his mouth to speak but was interrupted by their newcomer, “I daresay that we will get to practical work today. Blaise has informed me that there is not much time left before the boys return to Hogwarts, so we had best get straight to it.”

As the men turned towards him, Alessandro bent slightly at the waist in a genteel bow, “Alessandro Benjamin Zabini-Dioli at your service, Harry Potter.” 

“Um,” Harry gawked at such formality. He hadn’t been treated to such since his first trip to the Ministry. “Thank you for coming.” 

“Nonsense, when Blaise found me I had to come. When your family needs you, one cannot turn them away,” Alessandro smiled, taking a seat across from Harry as Blaise took his seat beside the Gryffindor. Everyone else sat when Bahiti took her seat next to her son at the head of the table. 

“We will just wait for Rabastan the Weasley twins to arrive before we eat,” Bahiti announced. The Gryffindor smiled and nodded as chatter began to rise around the room now that everyone knew that food wasn’t coming for a few more minutes. Harry was excited to see the others because as Draco had pointed out the previous night, they hadn’t been around much. “I have invited them over to meet my brother-in-law Alessandro,” she continued.

\---:::---

“So I hear congratulations are in order,” Alessandro smiled. Now that introductions were over and everyone had settled at the table, Blaise’s uncle wanted to catch up with his family.

“Hm,” Harry questioned, upon realizing that the statement was directed at him. He turned away from Blaise and looked across the table at their newcomer. Harry didn’t know much about him at this stage, only that he was a master duelist and a traveler. He spent much of his year visiting the homes of students and teaching them to duel, charging their parents a pretty penny for his individual tutoring services. 

“I have been told that you and my nephew are entering into formal courtship soon.”

Harry smiled and colored a little, but he nodded affirmatively. “We’re going to take it and have it sanctioned with the Gringotts goblins before we go back to school.”

Alessandro returned Harry’s smile, “Are you excited? I find myself a little jealous. I am not much older than Blaise here, only twenty-eight. However, I have not been close to courting or bonding. Not once.”

Harry stared back at him, not entirely sure what the man wanted him to say. Should he offer condolences or something? Somehow that didn’t seem appropriate, but the unexpected turn of the conversation seemed a tad inappropriate.

Bahiti snorted delicately and Blaise rolled his eyes. “Do not let him mislead you Harry. He might look innocent and small, but he is not in the slightest. When I sought him out in Italy he was in the company of two handsome older women.”

Alessandro shrugged and helped himself to juice, “What can I say? I am drawn to those I cannot have.” He winked at Narcissa playfully only to grin and duck at triple glares from the Malfoys. 

Clearing his throat, Alessandro returned his attention to the young men before him. “I do hope you have been diligent in your contraceptive spells. I know my nephew’s type,” he laughed at the many outraged expressions around the table and Harry’s blushing. 

Draco snickered at the other end of the table while Sirius inhaled his juice sharply in surprise and immediately began to the cough.

“That is not proper conversation for the breakfast table,” Severus sneered, staring down his nose at the newcomer while patting Sirius firmly across the back. 

“I must agree, Alessandro. You are out of line, dear brother,” Bahiti chastised. 

He gave slight nod, “My apologies, I merely meant to caution the boys against an untimely pregnancy.” 

Harry looked at the adults in the room bewilderedly. “What the bloody hell are you talking about,” he asked, his voice rising in pitch. 

“Language Harry,” Severus admonished gently. 

“Calm down Harry,” Blaise beseeched, moving to grab his lover’s hand as Harry was becoming more upset than the Slytherin would have imagined at such mild ribbing. They had experienced worse at the hands of Draco, Fred, and George. “My uncle is only advising us to be careful, and we have been,” Blaise turned to the man with assurance and narrowed eyes. This was none of his business and neither was upsetting Harry. 

“We have?” Harry asked, still shocked, confused and feeling slightly hysterical. “Because I had no idea that male…male pregnancy was even possible and-”

“It is alright Harry,” Blaise rushed to reassure him. “I am sorry that I assumed that you knew about this, but it really is okay. I took precautions.” 

“What precautions? And, just how common is this in the wizarding world because it is not even possible in the muggle world.” 

“Harry,” Sirius began with a pained expression on his face, once again thinking of how he failed his godson. He should have been there to teach him these things. 

“Black,” Severus sighed heavily, “you are at times worse than you godson. Every important failing does not fall on your head. As a faculty, Hogwarts staff—myself included—have failed to teach the muggle-born and muggle-raised students about such things. I am more forthright with my Slytherins, but that does not excuse neglect of students in the other houses.” 

“Severus, Sirius, I’m not blaming anyone,” Harry spoke into the silence, “I just don’t understand. Let’s move past all of the guilt for the moment because I honestly don’t care. I want to know if it’s possible for a baby to grow in my stomach!” 

“Yes, to be clear, Harry,” Blaise’s uncle spoke up. “It is entirely possible. In fact, my grandparents—Blaise’s great grandparents on his father’s side—are two men.” 

“Many children are born in this way. It is common and widely accepted in the wizarding world. That is why same sex bindings are not frowned upon as they are in the muggle world,” Narcissa added, “my great grandfather on my father’s side also had two male parents, and my estranged cousins on my mother’s side were born to two women.” 

“How is something like this physically possible?” He asked, reaching down to touch his stomach as if he only just realized it was there. 

“How do dragons and brooms fly? How does one brew glory or put a stopper in death,” Severus smirked. “Magic, Harry.” 

“Blimey,” Harry gasped, flopping back gracelessly into his breakfast chair, his pending morning meal all but forgotten. “I wonder if Ron knows about this,” he asked no one but himself. 

“I should say so, as we also have such relationships in our family history as well,” Bill added helpfully although Harry didn’t really need his commentary at the moment. He was feeling overwhelmed already as it was. 

“Harry,” Blaise called out, reaching for the Gryffindor’s hand. “There is nothing to worry about for now. My uncle only mentioned it as a joke and for future reference as we enter into official courtship. There is little to be concerned about now,” He grinned, again overjoyed that Harry had formally accepted his bid for courtship and that they would be heading to Gringotts later that afternoon to store their contract with the Goblins.

“How can you say that after we’ve…so many times,” Harry whispered harshly. 

“I took precautions. There are contraceptive spells to protect against unplanned pregnancy.” 

“Like a muggle condom?” 

Blaise frowned, “I am not familiar with that term, but such a thing would never work for us. Only magic can combat magic, Harry.” 

Harry nodded, “I only meant that muggles have things to protect against unplanned pregnancies as well, and that is my only point of reference at the moment.” 

Blaise nodded while conversation picked back up around the breakfast table, everyone beginning to resume their own conversations. 

Harry tilted his head as he reached for his orange juice, “Funny, I don’t remember you ever casting any spells before…you know…” Harry said questioningly, blushing as he noticed Alessandro’s smile, part of their eavesdropping audience. 

Draco laughed from across the table, “That is because Blaise is very practiced in keeping such things quick and subtle. As a matter of fact, he taught me how to cast that spell wandless and wordlessly as well not too long ago.” 

Blaise colored slightly, glaring at his best friend. He did not spend much time thinking about his sex life prior to Harry. It was nothing he was ashamed of, and Harry never mentioned or it. It is just that presently he was so full of Harry he cared not a whit about those days. 

“So you cast the spell on me every time?” 

Blaise shook his head. “No, it must be cast on the…um…aggressor,” he struggled to phrase it. “So, I cast the contraceptive spell on myself.” 

Harry nodded and then stilled suddenly, “Blaise.” 

“Hmm,” Blaise hummed questioningly, distracted by the aromas wafting from the kitchen. The twins and Rabastan needed to hurry as he was beginning to get very hungry. 

“This spell must be cast upon oneself, yes?”

“Yes, Harry what-” Blaise’s eyes widened as his thinking aligned with Harry’s and he remembered last night. He was so used to partners who took care of that sort of thing before they had sex with him. With Harry, things were different. Everything was always different with Harry, so last night when Harry positioned himself to take him, Blaise wanted to give that to him, and he didn’t regret it for a moment. That’s not to say that he hadn’t been careless.

“Damn,” he whispered. 

Harry gulped and stared at Blaise, but the Slytherin couldn’t read his expression. Harry grabbed his hand. “We don’t know anything yet. It doesn’t happen all of the time right?”

Blaise pursed his lips and nodded slowly because it was true that pregnancy did not occur every time, but he didn’t feel comfortable relying on those statics. 

“Harry?” Sirius called from across the table, noting his godson’s paling face. “Are you alright?” 

Harry had no ready answer.

\---:::---

“How could you both be so careless? We must take you to a healer straight away.” Bahiti cried, pacing about the parlor where the family had convened, now finally joined by Fred, George, and Rabastan. Each of which were cursing the early morning romp that made them tardy, ultimately resulting in them missing breakfast. By the time they were taken to the group by a helpful house elf, all thoughts of breakfast had been forsaken for the frantic conversation they had just walked into.

“It is too early to know anything,” Sirius disagreed. “I has not even gone twenty-four hours.” 

Bahiti snorted, “As if the magic from two powerful young men such as these missed the mark.”

“Do not be crass. I agree with Siriu-,” Severus agreed. 

“Oh do hush, Severus,” Bahiti challenged. “You were the one who encouraged them to enter into a sexual relationship in the first place.” 

“Under such circumstances as only Potter can create I followed with my best judgment. I do not regret my decision at the time.” 

“Everyone please just calm down,” Harry yelled, silencing the arguing adults in the room. He had never seen their parents behave this way. He had a feeling they would have been more composed if Bellatrix had appeared than they are now. 

“Blaise and I value your opinions but the fighting isn’t helping. Yes, the timing is shit, and having a baby in the middle of the term with Voldemort still a threat wasn’t in our plan, but this might be a chance for me to have a real family with Blaise, so I can’t regret it,” he said, squeezing Blaise’s hand tightly. He wanted the Slytherin to understand even if he was reluctant and may not agree with him. I am not giving it or Blaise up,” he stated.

Bahiti looked at the aghast. “Harry, I would…no one here would ever suggest such a thing.” 

Blaise smiled down at Harry, “We haven’t ever spoken about this Harry because it never came up, and I just didn’t think it would be an issue until at least after we were bonded. But, this baby, if there is one, is to be the heir of the Zabini, Potter, and Black families. No one will be taking or doing anything with our child Harry. I would not allow it.” 

Harry released a breath he didn’t know he was holding. “Right.”

_If a baby is to come, then we have to prepare for it. How long is the gestation for a male wizarding pregnancy anyway?_ Harry shook his head. All of that could come later if it turned out to be an issue. 

“Look,” Harry said, exhausted already and it was only eleven in the morning. “This is all important, and Blaise and I will figure it out with your help of course. However, and I don’t mean to sound callous, but there are more important items to discuss today aside from our maybe baby,” Harry said, giving Blaise’s hand a final squeeze before releasing it move into the center of the room. 

Confused, Sirius and Bahiti relinquished center stage. 

Harry took a deep breath. “I’m not sure exactly how to propose this, but I would like your help,” he began, addressing the room at large, not stopping on one single individual. “I have discussed this in part with Lucius and selected aspects have already been tasked to Fred and George. I have been told that with Rabastan’s help there have been some recent breakthroughs.” 

Sirius was puzzled; Blaise was slightly apprehensive, and Severus scowled. 

“Explain, Potter,” the potions master ordered. 

Harry nodded to Severus and dove into the background information he’d received from Ron that sparked the idea to forcibly evict Voldemort from Malfoy Manor. He also detailed the knowledge he’d received from Lucius’ research. 

Everyone listened as Harry told them his plan. He had scarcely taken a breath after finishing before the objections began to hurtle towards him like comets towards the Earth.

“No act of war is without risk,” Harry argued, standing across from Blaise, Sirius, and Severus. The men had joined Harry in the center of the rooms, arguing most vehemently. The Malfoys, Bill, and the twins were standing behind Harry supportively. Lady Zabini and surprising Rabastan were standing to the side with indecision written plainly across their faces. 

“And this _is_ war,” he pushed. “We have been standing on the side, reacting passively to Voldemort’s attacks.” 

The Malfoys were strangely quiet Blaise noticed, but that was understandable. They might maintain allegiance with Harry even after the war is over, but that didn’t mean that they wanted to live with him forever. Malfoy Manor was their home and legacy, and they dearly wanted it back. No one questioned or faulted their desire to have the Dark Lord removed from their halls. Most were concerned only by the risk. 

“Look, I am not walking into this blindly. As I have said, I have gone over this extensively with Lucius. Not to exclude any of you, but to find out if it was a feasible plan. I intended to bring it up to everyone once we knew it was possible. Now that we do, I need all of your help to make this happen.” 

“Harry I’m just not sure about this. It has the potential to be very dangerous,” Sirius began. 

“What precautions have you taken to ensure that this venture will be a success?” Rabastan asked, wanting all of the details before he assented. He would do everything in his power to aid Harry in his destruction of Voldemort and beyond, even if that meant stopping him from behaving foolishly. And, at this point, Harry had said little to convince him that this wasn’t just a plan for revenge. 

“For this plan to work,” Lucius stepped, “the timing must be perfect; everything must happen simultaneously, which is where the work you have helped Fred and George complete comes into the picture. The cellular devices you have been working on are integral.”

“Cellular devices, those muggle electronic devices,” Draco asked, glancing towards the twins.

Alessandro perked up interestedly. His nephew might have invited him into an intriguing group of wizards.

“Yes,” Harry nodded with a grin, excited to test their work. “At my request, Fred and George were tinkering with a few choice items from the muggle world and trying to make them useful in the presence of magic. First and foremost, we all need a secure,” he stressed the word, “and instant means of communication for this plan and the future. Letters, carefully warded and carried by the swiftest, most intelligent owl, can still be intercepted and tampered with. We do not need to speak of the many issues with floo calling.”

“With these,” Harry held out a hand for one of the phones, “We can speak to one another from any distance.”

“Hypothetically,” George chimed in. 

“We haven’t finished testing the prototypes,” Fred continued. 

“Although these work swimming,” Rabastan couldn’t help but add proudly. The three of them had slaved over the devices for weeks, even having to create special crafting gloves to complete the job of weaving the streams of magic through the delicate metal parts. 

“I’m sure they’re grand,” Harry smiled, trusting their abilities. Turning to the rest of the crowd,   
“Once activated, the phone will only work for a single person with the matching magical signature, but the device can seek out the signatures of several different people with similar devices. They can explain the whole of it,” gestured to the three magical engineers before huffing into the silence. 

“I have thought about his extensively and prepared as much as I can without the help of everyone here. I am not doing this solely for selfish reasons, and it will be a huge help to have Voldemort reeling when we begin the horcrux hunt,” he finished, gazing around imploringly. 

“Fine,” Blaise acquiesced, staring into Harry’s eyes and seeing his staunch determination. He glanced minutely at his mother and noted her approving smile as she quietly moved to stand with Harry. He couldn’t, in this struggle against the Dark Lord’s madness, prevent Harry from doing his duty or stand as a human shield between him and all danger, especially with what might be growing inside of him now, not that he even wanted to think about that right now. He had to be Harry’s partner in all things, but especially in this. 

“But I will be with you the entire time. You will not leave my side. Whatever the particulars of the plan may be, you will work me into it so that I may go with you.” 

Harry smiled, “We have already done that. Besides, we mean to do this over the Yule break, so there is time to go over it many times,” he said, turning towards Severus and Sirius. 

Severus sighed, “This may only enrage him further and cause him to become more unstable and unpredictable.” 

Harry nodded earnestly, “Yes, I imagine that his rage will be neigh on irrepressible for him, but I imagine that many of the followers in Malfoy Manor will die, and he will be weakened. Moreover, he won’t be expecting this, and he won’t be able to protect against it. This could give us the opportunity we need to hunt for horcruxes in the summer without interference from Voldemort because he will undoubtedly seek to recoup his numbers and plan a counter strike which, given his penchant for theatrics and symbolism will likely only occur on a few days of thru year, particularly my birthday in July or on Halloween. Halloween, I might add has already passed, so there is plenty of time to prepare ourselves to take action over the winter holiday.”

Harry gazed at the two remaining doubtful figures, his Godfather and Severus. 

“Voldemort will plan his next strike for July 31st,” Harry told them with the utmost confidence. “And won’t be prepared for a preemptive attack. By doing this over the Yule break, we can save many lives that otherwise might be forfeit if we allow Voldemort to do as he pleases this summer.” 

_”I support sweet Harry’s plan,”_ a disembodied voice whispered through the room, startling everyone. Alessandro instantly drew his wand and cast his eyes about the room intently. 

Silence entered the room like a drafty wind, chilling everyone to the bone. 

“Who is there,” Bahiti called, anger beginning to mar her face. She couldn’t imagine who would have the power and subtlety to circumvent her wards and trespass on her property without notice. 

“It is I,” a woman spoke, appearing in the middle of the room, scantily clad in ancient garb. 

“Ama!” Harry yelped, knowing that face anywhere. Severus nodded in recognition as well, putting away his wand and releasing a breath he didn’t know he was holding.

“Where have you been?”

“You have finally returned to your human shape?” 

Questions and murmurings filled the room. 

“One at a time please,” she laughed, moving to embrace Harry, taking a firm stance beside him. 

“Who is this vision,” Alessandro asked, moving to take a seat nearer to the Goddess. 

Amaunet cocked an eyebrow at the shorter man before looking to everyone in the room. The air was tense as were the inhabitants of the bright parlor. “How about we all take a deep breath and speak about this more genteelly,” she suggested, disliking all of the yelling at Harry. 

Everyone did as directed because who in their right mind would argue with a Goddess.

“Ama is a Goddess, an Egyptian Goddess to be precise,” Harry finally spoke to answer Alessandro’s lingering question, smiling up at the woman with fondness. 

“You don’t say…” Blaise’s uncle stared while his nephew rolled his eyes. It took one pretty, single woman to completely addle his uncle. 

Harry laughed, and the goddess shook her head with amusement. 

“Yes,” Harry responded, addressing Alessandro because he was least familiar with her. “She is literally an Egyptian goddess. You can look her up in books and things. She’s sort of like my guardian angel or something. Blaise sort of gave her to me,” he smiled at the both of them. 

“As far as a goddess can be given away to anyone,” she nodded, her voice tinged slightly in warning. “To be exact, I reside with Harry and look after him because I want to. Though he was introduced to me by Blaise who gave him a protective amulet with a piece of my soul in it. Much like the people of Thebes and the pharos of old, Harry is now beloved of the Goddess Amaunet—She Who is Hidden—the female counterpart and consort of Amun.” 

“Where have you been Ama,” Harry asked again. 

“I had to spend much time regaining my strength after our trip through the Pit. Then, I left to roam as my kind are wont to do. I wanted to learn as much as possible about wizard magic as well as the state of affairs of my brothers and sisters in this time, so that I might be able to best aid you on your quest Harry. As you can see I have regained much of my strength and can now shape shift again to speak with you. I have learned much about this world. There is much to tell, and I would like to aid in this plan to vanquish the evil from the fair ones’ home. Please tell me more, so that I might help convince the old scowl-y ones.”

“Old,” Sirius gasped, outraged.

\---:::---

“I see few shortcomings with this course of action,” Ama commented as she listened to the short version repeated to her. “If we attack when he least expecting, then we will triumph. Moreover, this is to be largely a covert operation. I excel at missions such as these and can be of great assistance. If this will leave the beast weakened, then all the better because then that will give us leave to hunt and destroy his abominations in relative safety during this summer holiday that has been spoken of.”

Sirius heaved a large breath and moved to embrace his godson, “I guess I cannot argue with a Goddess, pup.” 

Harry returned the hug with a fierce grip. 

“I only want you to be safe,” the man continued, pulling back a touch to look Harry in the eyes. 

“It will all be fine. You will see,” Ama chimed in, hoping to ease the fears of Harry’s godfather. 

Severus pinched his nose and sighed, the last of his resistance faltering. Harry would likely forever drag him into some dangerous and foolhardy adventure; it was obviously in the boy’s nature. “What of the Order then,” he asked tiredly. Severus could not imagine Dumbledore supporting such a plan, considering that the old man had not thought of it himself. He clearly had his own plans for Harry. 

Harry grimaced and crossed his arms preparing to speak when Lucius cut in. 

“The plan I have devised with does not call for a large number of combatants. Indeed, the fewer the better because we would like to remain unnoticed until the very last minute. Furthermore, the of people Narcissa, Draco, and I can carry through the standing wards—if they haven’t been tampered with by the Dark Lord—is limited.” 

“Voldemort can alter Malfoy Manor’s wards,” Blaise asked. 

Draco shook his head, “Not directly. That is ancestral magic. He may be protected and welcomed by it, but he has no control over it for he does not carry Malfoy blood. Even my mother has limited sway over wards she has not lain herself.” 

“The Dark Lord may have added his own wards in the time that we have been absent which could set us back a little. We will have to do a recon mission first to ascertain the state of the Manor. Rabastan, I trust we will have your help in this,” Lucius asked. 

The man nodded his assent, “Of course, if this is the course of action Harry and everyone has agreed upon, then naturally I will step in to help.” 

“Thank you,” Harry breathed. 

“Well,” Alessandro stood, speaking for only the third time since breakfast, “I think that’s enough for today. It seems that you all have ample time to discuss this further, but I have limited time to whip these boys into shape. And based on this discussion, you three will need to be prepared for any eventuality in the coming months. Come boys, show me to the training grounds.”

\---:::---

Relief filled Remus when he apparated into Grimmauld place and took a look around. It felt amazing to be home in Britain. As he gathered his bearings, Remus was stunned by the changes to the home. As _nasty werewolf vermin_ , he had never been allowed into the London townhouse when he and Sirius were children, so he’d never seen the place look so shiny and new. The small foyer was bright. The knobs and accoutrements were polished, the green wallpaper with its fine gold filigree was clean and appeared brand new. The slate floor entrance that gave way to warm dark hardwood were both pristine. In short, this place had never felt so warm and inviting. The most starling change was the echoing stillness in the room. He looked around, but he couldn’t see Lady Black’s shrieking portrait anywhere.

“Just what the blazes is going on,” he whispered to himself, venturing further into the house. “Sirius? Harry?” he called. 

“Mister Lupin.”

Recognizing Kreacher’s voice, Remus turned around to for another shock. The elf was clean and standing upright. Most surprisingly there wasn’t a disdainful sneer on his face. 

“Kreacher, what’s going on here?” he dared to ask. 

“Master Harry be asking to have his home cleaned up, and I be doing it. I be doing it well. Master Harry has not seen it yet though, but I keeps it clean for when he arrives. While away from school, he don’t want Dumbly-dore to be spying.”

“Of course,” Remus nodded, dropping his bags on the floor only to have them vanish with a snap from the elf. 

“What happened to Walburga,” he couldn’t stop himself from asking, still marveling at the quiet. 

Kreacher frowned, “Master Harry be not liking her, so I puts her in a different home,” he admits and begins to fidget. “It is still a Black home, so Kreacher didn’t do wrong,” he said quickly becoming more agitated as he spoke. Perhaps he was still feeling guilty for removing his previous owner from her favorite home. They should have known that elf magic might have had a better chance at moving or silencing that wretched woman. 

“You did well,” Kreacher. “Harry will be happy, and Walburga will settle into her new residence soon I’d imagine,” he smiled kindly. “Is it possible for you to take me to Harry and Sirius now?” he inquired, bending down to the elf’s level. 

Kreacher nodded, “Lord Black be asking me to do that, and Lady Zabini be giving me access to the Zabini Manor wards. We can go when Mister Lupin is being ready.”

“Alright,” he stood and stretched. “I will take a bath as it is quite late and turn in for the night. Might you take me to them tomorrow morning after breakfast?” 

“Certainly, Mister Lupin. Up the stairs your clothes be in the first bedroom on the left, sorted in the wardrobe. The dirty articles I be sending downstairs to the wash. A bath be already running for you. I can make dinner too if you want to eat.” 

“That sounds delightful Kreacher,” Remus smiled. He walked into his usual room when he stayed at Grimmauld Place and took stock of the differences. The room was cleaner and brighter. He’d always felt at home here amongst friends, but Grimmauld was far and away much more inviting now. Remus moved towards the bathroom and inhaled the clean British air happily. He was home, and soon he would be with those that he loved.

\---:::---

Blaise ran a hand over his still flat stomach, turning from left to right and then back to the left.

"You can't see anything," Harry said, walking up to Blaise and slinging his arms around Blaise's middle lifting onto his toes just a bit to hook his chin over Zabini's shoulder. "We don't even know if there's anything in there."

"Anyone, Harry." Blaise corrected gently, "do no call our baby a thing. He or she will be brilliant beyond measure, you know." 

Harry chuckled as Blaise stepped away again and proceeded to shift more, gazing at his reflection.

"Alright," Harry conceded, "why do you look so upset then. Aside from the fact that we may very well become a cliché." 

Blaise snorted, "Harry, our union and our children will be greater than ever there was. I hardly call that a cliché." 

Harry barked a loud laugh, "You sound more like Draco every day." 

"I could say the same about you and Sirius." 

Harry shrugged. He wouldn't deny it. 

"Still," Blaise continued. "I just never imagined that...well I always pictured..." 

"Someone else carrying your progeny," Harry inquired with an eyebrow raise. 

Blaise turned a sheepish grin on Harry to which Harry just smirked, "You have just said that there's no one better than you and I, so you should know already that Potter sperm is second none, not even a Zabini's."

Blaise laughed out loud, "Truly. I did say something akin to that I believe."

Harry smiled and reached a hand out towards Blaise, "Whatever...whoever comes along we will handle it with the help of our family and friends. We will be great," Harry promised gripping Blaise's hand tightly. 

"Undoubtedly, we already are," Blaise concurred, bending to kiss Harry sweetly on the lips.

\---:::---

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **A/N: Well, that’s it for chapter 20. It took a bit longer that I wanted. Believe it or not I was hoping to have this posted before the New Year. I really hope you all liked this chapter. I loved writing it and moving things along in the plot, but I’m even more excited for the next chapter. Please read and review! Feel free to ask me any questions you might have if there’s confusion.**


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone here is chapter 21. Sorry for the long wait! I hope you all enjoy it. :) I had a blast writing it. Only read through once by me so let me know if you notice any glaring type-os or plot inconsistencies. If you have questions, let me know. I'm happy to answer whatever I can. I have very, very short notes at the end, so check those out and read and review! 
> 
> P.S. A kind reader pointed out a small plot inconsistency regarding Ron and Neville from chapter 14. I have corrected that issue as of now. Thank you for bringing that to my attention **skittles_lee**!
> 
> Thanks!  
> -TSS

****

Chapter 21

Dumbledore blinked and lifted his head at the disturbance in the castle wards. Minerva was already standing rigidly to the right of his desk, so that could only mean that the boys had finally activated the portkey owled to them earlier that week. 

“Welcome back boys,” Dumbledore stood to be of equal height upon their entrance into his office minutes after the magical disturbance. With a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes, the Headmaster took in the three students standing before him. The last time he had seen them, they had seemed tired, bedraggled, and harried; they now each stood tall and august before him.

“It seems the time off did you boys some good,” he said calmly with little inflection one way or another. He was not surprised to see them well rested and bright-eyed, but they all seemed more staid and stalwart in some way. This wasn’t surprising for the two Slytherins who have always been more circumspect and exceptionally reserved around him. Harry on the other hand was indeed a surprise.

Dumbledore narrowed his eyes slightly and focused solely on Harry. Though still much shorter than Zabini and even Malfoy, the boy now cut an imposing figure. He seemed somewhat broader and larger. Perhaps it was because of a wardrobe change. The Headmaster could see that Harry hadn’t been idle in his time away, spending some time on new fitted winter robes. They accentuated his shoulders and biceps in a way that doesn’t make him seem so thin. 

Still, Dumbledore discerned more than that. Harry was obviously more physically fit than when he left a couple of months ago. 

He’d never looked more like James Potter before, and yet there was something startling different from what Dumbledore remembered of James. The Headmaster wasn’t sure if he relished the difference at all. Harry looked more sure-footed than he ever had before. Despite embracing Hogwarts and the wizarding world as his home and always finding himself in the thick of it, Harry was still somewhat on the peripheries in equal measures due to his orphaned nature. Dumbledore would admit that it was something he had worked to take advantage of, situating himself as Harry’s guiding figure when away from the Dursely’s. He was doing it for the boy’s wellbeing, so he had no qualms about it. 

Now, it was apparent that Harry had others in his life, was feeling more confident as a result and in all likelihood would become more defiant. This could be due to Sirius’ growing influence in the boy’s life, but Dumbledore was certain that it had much to do with the Zabini heir at his side. He sighed, things would have been much better if he knew some of what Harry had been doing during his suspension, but no matter. 

“It would have been better if you had returned this morning per my letter’s instructions,” he lightly admonished, turning to move about his office. “It is nearing dinnertime my boys.” 

Draco blinked. He couldn’t remember once being addressed as such by Dumbledore in all his years a student. Blaise, evidenced by the raising of a lone eyebrow, was clearly surprised as well and equally unamused. 

“We have learned well,” Blaise answered the unasked question about their tardiness, “to check the origins and destinations of portkeys, Headmaster.” 

Harry nodded grimly, “You can’t trust a letter or portkey with your life, Headmaster. If nothing else, I learned that from the Tournament.” 

Dumbledore nodded, “I understand Harry. I merely wanted to let you know that Professor McGonagall and I were worried.” 

“Nonetheless we needed to take precautions in these times, and it is Sunday, so we haven’t missed any more classes,” Draco added, turning to look around the packed office. He had rarely spent this much time in Dumbledore’s tower, and despite missing Bill and his parents, he was actually excited to return to the Slytherin common room. 

“Of course, of course,” Dumbledore smiled at them, “please return to your common rooms and your friends.” 

“Truly, welcome back boys,” McGonagall spoke for the first time. “It is good to have you all back.”

Draco and Blaise nodded while Harry graced his Head of House with a genuinely pleased sine. “It’s good to be back professor.”

As the boys trailed out of the room, the Headmaster called to them a final time, “Do be sure to be present at the final meal tonight. I have an announcement for the entire student body, understood?” 

“Yes, Headmaster.”

\---:::---

Harry released a breath as they stepped off of the revolving staircase. He’d never felt so tense in Dumbledore’s office before. In the months he’d been in Zabini Manor, his ire towards the Headmaster had cooled somewhat, but still in those twinkling eyes where he once saw only good humor and delight, Harry now looked deeper, glimpsing nothing but suspicion and intrigue.

Having those guiling eyes turned on him set Harris on edge as never before. They weren’t treacherous and hateful like Voldemort’s, but neither did they inspire trust in Harry. The Gryffindor wasn’t necessarily pleased to have this side of Dumbledore revealed. He wouldn’t prefer to remain ignorant—like so many others—to the Headmaster’s machinations, but aside from Ron and Hermione, Dumbledore was his first confidant and advocate. To have him revealed as otherwise filled Harry with dread and sadness. For a boy with precious few, it was no small thing to disassociate with whom was once thought a friend.

\---:::---

Minutes later Harry separated from Draco and Blaise and entered the Gryffindor common room. A hush descended upon the crowd. It was not the first time Harry’s mere appearance stilled the breath in others, and he doubted that it would be the last. Under new tutelage at Zabini Manor, the boy was coming to understand how that could be an advantage. However, here in the common room it was simply awkward until Ron ventured down the stairs and grinned widely upon glimpsing his missing friend.

“Harry,” he barked, rushing forward to bypass the gawkers. Voices rang out behind Ron on the stairs and as the two boys moved properly into the open space in the common room, they were soon joined by Seamus, Dean, and Neville who had followed behind Ron.

“Blimey Harry, you look different,” Seamus cocked his head, puzzled. 

“Do I?” Harry asked, “Am I taller?” He stood up straight and puffed his chest out slightly. He certainly filled out his clothes much better than he used to with how much stronger he’d become. Alessandro was one hard task master. When it came to his craft of dueling he rivaled Snape in both passion and exacting nature. He was taunting, watchful and inquisitive outside of training, but he became a different person later on. 

Everyone laughed and Ron pushed him. “No, you tosser. You’re shorter than ever!”

“Hey! I resent that,” Harry called, laughingly. He was really glad to see Ron again. The last time he’d seen him, the red head had been distraught, covered in Severus’ blood, and whisked out of Zabini Manor faster than you can say ‘Weasley.’ It had been a long, albeit very productive, suspension for Harry without his best friend.

“Seriously Harry,” Ginny pushed forward. “Your hair looks longer.”

“You think so?” Harry asked, tugging at his fringe. He hadn’t noticed the growth since his hair was always in a riot, conspiring against him. ¬¬¬

Dean shook his head, “Maybe it is a bit longer, but that’s not it. I think it’s the robes; they’re new right?” 

Harry nodded, “While I was suspended, I went shopping with Sirius and Blaise.” Harry colored a little and looked down at the expensive thick winter robes. He had an entire new wardrobe that he hadn’t spent a penny on. They both liked to spoil him. “Anyway let’s all sit down,” Harry suggested moving over to a more secluded area of the common room. “We can speak more freely here before we head for dinner.”

“Yeah, okay,” Ron nodded. That’s where they were heading originally before Harry showed up. Ron wanted to get an early seat in case they put things out early. He was starving, per usual, but he could wait a bit longer. 

“How is Sirius? Everything happened so quickly when you were suspended that no one could hardly get a look at him.” Neville asked, bringing the conversation around to more important topics. 

Ginny nodded curiously from her seat nearby. She was still somewhat miffed and annoyed with Harry for choosing a slimy Slytherin over her, but mostly she was just confused by the rebuff and what felt like an abrupt change of feelings on Harry’s part. She still couldn’t entirely understand why he would choose a _Slytherin_ over her. Still, she shook her head and smiled weakly in the boys’ direction. 

Either way, despite her feelings Ginny didn’t want to alienate Harry and her brother further. She had friends in her year, but she used to be close with her brother’s friends as well; the girl wasn’t eager for that to change overmuch. Moreover, she saw what such actions had done to Hermione’s social life, and she had no desire to suffer that fate. Certainly her five-year crush on Harry Potter would die a slow and hard death, and there would be many more glares towards the Slytherin table during meals, but that would be it unless circumstances shifted in her favor in the future. 

“Padfoot is great,” Harry beamed, answering Neville. “Never better, in fact. He’s been helping us with the animagus transformation. You wouldn’t believe some of the things he can do. Too bad you aren’t in our year Ginny, then you could see our demonstrations for McGonagall.” 

Harry strove to include Ginny in the conversation as she was clearly listening in. He had said his piece shortly before his suspension, and she had not made any more overtures since then, simply throwing confused narrowed eyes at him and hateful glares towards Blaise. Harry could live with that. They were never best friends and likely wouldn’t be very close in the future either, but she was—for better or for worse—Ron’s baby sister. Trying too hard to avoid his best friend’s sister would be awkward and difficult for Ron because despite her aggressive romantic intentions for Harry and her screaming months prior, Ron still loved her. Harry saw no need to take things further as long as Ginny left him be in regards to his personal life. 

“You’ve been practicing?” Ron asked, slightly appalled, regaining Harry’s attention. 

Harry laughed. “A suspension isn’t like going on holiday, Ron. We still have to sit exams and complete practical demonstrations this week if we want to pass this term. Besides, I have been living with overachieving Slytherins these past two months and Severus was always with us. There was no way I could really slack off.” 

Ron gave him a sympathetic grimace that only made Harry laugh more.

\---:::---

It was the boys’ first day back in the castle, a Sunday. The very next day they would have to sit exams and begin the end of term practical examinations. It was an abrupt start, but Draco knew that the Headmaster had planned it that way as a part of their punishment. Draco snorted. As if they weren’t prepared.

He walked alongside Blaise as they made their way into the dungeons. “Well, well, look what the kneazel dragged in,” Pansy jeered at Blaise who had walked into the Slytherin common room half a step before Draco. 

Blaise sneered at her, not in the mood to deal with her screeching. Luckily, at that moment she glimpsed the slender blonde behind him and swiftly forgot about Blaise.

“Oh Drakey, thank goodness you’re back. It has been dreadful without you, appallingly boring.” She grimaced and glared around them disdainfully as if the very walls has offended her. “I will never forgive Potter—or Zabini for that matter—for dragging you into some trice-damned Gryffindor scheme that took you away from me for months.”

Draco grimaced and began to brush her off of him. She had her bosom and cheek pressed so tightly against him that he feared she had turned in a parasitic blubber-worm, never to be removed.

“No one took him away from you Pansy because he was never yours to begin with,” a matter-of-fact voice rang out, interrupting the show that the other Slytherins were observing. “Now, why don’t you move so that his friends can greet him properly, and the younger years can reacquaint themselves with their prefect?”

“It’s so good to see you Daphne,” Draco greeted her, moving by Pansy and ignoring her indignant squawk.

“Yes,” Blaise grinned, his first genuine smile since he stepped into his common room. “We missed you, and there is much we hope to tell you.”

Daphne arched on eyebrow, not really impressed. “So you’re both finally ready to play the sharing game, are you?”

Both boys winced, thinking on how excluded she must have felt with their secrecy of late and then their expulsions, which from heavily edited letters she knew that they had spent together.

“Yes,” Blaise nodded seriously placing his warm hand on her shoulder, “Beginning with our recent betrothals,” he announced to the room at large. The announcement shocked many in the room but none more than Pansy and Astoria. 

Taking a glimpse at Pansy, many would not recognize her. Gone was her shrieking and sneering countenance; she bit her lip and appeared to have stopped breathing altogether. In a word she looked…shattered. So great was her delusional belief that she would bond with Draco Malfoy that she could barely comprehend what she had heard. _It just couldn’t be true. Who could be better for Draco than her? Surely, there must be some mistake._

“Dr-Draco,” she croaked in a broken whisper. 

The boy in question turned to her with surprisingly gentle eyes. Taking them in now, Pansy realized that she had rarely if ever seen more than a cool tolerance in them. That almost hurt more than Zabini’s declaration. 

“I’m sorry, Pansy,” he interrupted her thoughts. “I know that you had aspirations towards a future with me, but I never felt the same.” Spending time with Bill’s easy nature and finally relaxing without the ghost of Voldemort haunting his family, Draco’s personality was changing one day at a time. He was still snarky and haughty, but he found it easier to temper those inclinations when the situation called for it. Certainly it would be an advantage in the political arena as he wanted to follow in his father’s footsteps. 

“It never would have worked,” he persisted as she seemed to pull herself together. 

“How can you say that when you never gave us a chance?” 

Draco sighed; he didn’t want to get into this with her, especially not with an audience. “Pansy, this is neither the time nor the place for this.” 

“It’s never the time, Draco! I always have to carve my way into your life. You never make time for me to just talk and-”

“That should have told you all that you needed to know, Pansy,” he retorted. “I didn’t want to hurt your feelings too much when you behaved inappropriately, but I see now that simply avoiding you when I could was doing you a disservice and fostering false hope in your heart. For that, I apologize, but now that I am engaged I cannot entertain your behavior anymore.” 

“Do not speak to me like I’m a child you have to babysit, Draco Malfoy!” 

Draco sighed and closed his eyes, fighting for patience. 

“Enough, Pansy,” a deep baritone sounded in the room as Professor Snape walked through the portrait. “You needn’t shout, and we do not discuss personal matters such as these publically. It is unbecoming of a Slytherin…as is not knowing when to bow out gracefully and cut our losses,” he eyed the young girl knowingly. “The love affairs between students is not my business, nor do I care to make it my business However when it disrupts the peace within Slytherin House, it becomes so.” 

He arched an intimidating eyebrow and glanced about the room. 

“Now, it is time for dinner and the Headmaster has something to address with the entire student body. I have come to remind you all not to be late. I trust that I will see each of your faces from the head table. Trust me,” he said, gazing at everyone imperiously, “you do not want to find yourself missing tonight. If you do, you had better be in the infirmary lest you find yourself in detention with me and wishing you were indeed the recipient of Madame Pomfrey’s tender ministrations.” 

With that final comment, he strode from the room, and Blaise, Draco, and Daphne made a hasty escape towards the Great Hall with their housemates.

\---:::---

“So, tell me about Luna,” Harry prompted, sitting beside Ron and leaning over so that they wouldn’t be overheard. There was much conversation in the Great Hall as everyone waited for the food, but there was a delay because Dumbledore wanted to give a speech. As everyone speculated about what it could be, Harry thought this would be a good time to ask Ron about the fair-haired witch.

Ron’s ears turned a plum purple, a deeper shade then Harry had ever seen before. The redhead cleared his throat and coughed, “Wha-what about her?” 

“Well, at least half of each of your letters referenced Luna. Well not directly, but they were about what you were doing or researching and almost each of those activities included her. I didn’t know the two of you to hang out so much before.” 

Ron swallowed and smiled shyly as he glanced over his shoulder to the Ravenclaw table. “We didn’t, but while you were gone we sort of, um, fell in together. She’s great.”

Harry hummed and nodded. He’d always thought Luna was strange but sweet and pretty harmless. After Hermione, Harry could see how Ron might find someone completely different attractive. Both girls were pretty and intelligent in their own way. But, Luna had a gentle, willowy kindness about her that Harry thought could turn out to be really good for Ron. “So have you taken her out on any dates? I only ask because the look on your face when you looked over there is telling me that you like her as more than just friends. Does she know?” 

Ron nodded and dipped his head so that his bangs covered his eyes a little bit. Normally, he could hide behind a plate of food and mumble through a response, but now he couldn’t. 

“We did go on one date, but that didn’t end very well,” he mumbled.

“What happened?” 

“Bellatrix.” 

Harry startled a little. That hadn’t been the response he was expecting. “You mean the attack on Hogsmeade weeks ago?” 

Ron nodded, “We haven’t been able to leave the castle then, so there haven’t been any other official dates, but we find time for ourselves when we can. As big as the castle is, whenever you want privacy it’s hard won.” 

Harry chuckled, he knew how that went. “Well what do you think of her? You’ve asked me a lot about Blaise. It’s your turn to fess up, mate.” Harry teased, knocking his best friend with his shoulder. 

Ron groaned, but nodded with another shy smile. “She’s brilliant, and I mean that book-wise too. Being sorted into Ravenclaw was no mistake. You just have to know how to understand her, and it’s not hard if you try. I can’t say if everything she says is real or anything, but it’s fascinating nonetheless, and it gives her a different understanding of life, and she finds peace in that.” 

Harry nodded, listening raptly. “You always had a thing for the brainy ones,” he joked.

Ron grinned. “Luna is calm and relaxed even in her excitement, and that works well with my personality because I am so lazy half of the time and too worked up the rest of it. I can sit quietly and day dream or think about Quiddich while she works on whatever catches her fancy…literally catches it,” Ron laughed quietly to himself. “She says that little imps basically draw her attention from thing to the next at times, though she doesn’t call them imps. I can’t recall the name right now.” 

Harry grinned at the indulgence in Ron’s voice. He seemed to be quite taken with Luna. 

“She doesn’t allow me to sit around and piss the day away all of the time though,” Ron promised quickly, lest anyone think less of his Luna. He was thinking particularly of Hermione who frowned heavily on Ron and Luna when she caught them laying and chatting quietly together on the grounds or found Ron napping in a corner of the library with Luna gazing off into the distance. 

In recent weeks, Hermione had grown quiet and kept more to herself, but she still threw Ron betrayed disdainful looks that made him feel badly, but it wouldn’t stop him from spending time with Luna. 

“It all sounds wonderful, Ron,” Harry nodded in agreement. “I can’t imagine a Ravenclaw, even one as unique as Luna, allowing you to keep your head in the clouds for too long.”

Ron chuckled at Harry’s comment and opened his mouth in response only to be interrupted by the scraping of the Headmaster’s chair as he stood to address the room. 

“Students,” he began, his voice stilling the last murmurings in the room. “I want to speak with you all briefly to address safety concerns here at Hogwarts. My children and faculty, as darkness beats upon our doors and hearts, we must stand firm and intrepid beneath its chilling gaze. Whatever you and your family choose to believe and take to heart, know that there was indeed an attack on Hogsmeade by known Death Eaters just weeks ago, confirmed by the Ministry of Magic.

“Dangerous times are upon us. Do not hesitate for any reason to come to me, your, Head of House, or any other faculty member if you see any suspicious activity in or around the castle. I must stress this time is one of great need, a time for us as a faculty and student body to come together and set aside petty rivalries and past animosities to keep each other safe. 

“Also, know that we as a staff will not tolerate the use of any dark magic at any time, regardless of the circumstances,” Dumbledore’s voice boomed unchecked around the hall and his steely gaze stopped heavily on Harry, sitting in the center of the Gryffindor table. Though only few knew of the circumstances that resulted in the suspension of three of Hogwarts’ students, many had suspicions, and knew that his words were unabashedly aimed at Harry, but the boy merely stared back passively. Saving Sirius was something that he would never regret. 

After a pause, the Headmaster continued in a more subdued tone. “You all know that you have been confined to Hogwarts grounds for the duration of this term. All Hogsmeade trips have been cancelled indefinitely and there will be no sneaking off of school grounds. All entrances and exits to the castle grounds have been warded and will be monitored daily; the normal curfew will be strictly enforced. Students found out to be in the Forbidden Forest or in Hogsmeade without express permission will be punished without impunity.”

Dumbledore looked out amongst his students gravely and spoke his last words sternly, “I prithee you will all be circumspect as you finish this term.” With his final words echoing through the hall, he sat down, and food appeared on the plates before the students as whispers and murmurings followed.

\---:::---

“Blaise, Draco, I think we should begin,” Daphne instructed after dinner as they entered the sixth year boys’ dormitory. “Although though I know little about the doings of either of you lately, it is woefully obvious to whom you have proposed. Nevertheless, I want the truth, and I desire that you start from the very beginning because I admit, despite seeing the evidence firsthand, I find it quite incomprehensible.”

As she spoke, Daphne divested herself of her outer school robes, and climbed onto Blaise’s bed. She sat at the head of the bed, crossed her legs at the ankle and looked for all the world like she was about to hold court, atop Blaise’s duvet no less.

Both boys stood at the end of the bed silently.

“Well do sit down; it isn’t as if we have all night,” Daphne admonished. “Much time has passed since you were last here and we have Transfigurations exams to sit in the morning. I want to be well-rested and centered for the practical.” 

Blaise smiled and Draco laughed lightly as they each perched on the bed and leaned back against the bed posts at the end of the bed. Blaise made himself comfortable as we he was entitled to, seeing as it was his bed they were using and asked, “What would you like to hear first, Daphne?” 

Before she could utter a word, Draco raised a hand and drew his wand to erect several privacy wards. Much of the information they might share with her was sensitive and could impact the war, so it was necessary to take precautions when speaking frankly. Moreover, all of the information was personal in nature, and Draco didn’t want it floating around the castle within days. It was no one’s business but their own despite what the mass of students in Hogwarts might think. 

With a nod he signaled for her to proceed after verifying that they were indeed alone and that no one who entered the room could eavesdrop. 

“Certainly, I want to learn the details of these engagements I have recently heard about, but that will have to wait until the end. Despite how absolutely riveting the tale of your love lives will prove to be,” she rolled her eyes and continued drolly, “There are more important things going on with the two of you, seeing as how you were both suspended from school which has never occurred in Hogwarts’ history. Why don’t we start there? And, while we’re at it, why don’t the two you explain why I was left in the dark for so long. I was worried about you yes, but more than that it was insulting and hurtful to see how little I was confided in during such a time that was obviously life-altering for the both of you. Until this moment, I have respected your desire for privacy and held my peace, comporting myself with tactful reserve, but I feel I deserve some sort of explanation.”

Towards the end of her speech her voice became steely and short, displaying her ire without ever raising her voice. Daphne had drawn a line in the sand without lifting a finger that plainly—for a Slytherin in any case—stated that if they were anything but forthcoming and if their answers did not satisfy her, then the friendships they had cultivated over the last few years would likely never recover. 

Draco sighed heavily and flung himself dramatically backwards onto the bed, his body bouncing slightly due to the soft mattresses’ recoiling springs. The action suitably cut the thick air if only a little. Daphne was still angry, but a return of Draco’s dramatics and carrying on—in a select crowd of course—was a testament to his _sang-froid_ and the honest belief that he likely wasn’t going to die in the next few months. 

That had as much to do with Harry as it did with Bill. Draco had seen and dealt with too much for a sixteen-year-old boy, to really feel as though he was regaining his childhood. Even if the Dark Lord hadn’t invaded his home like a mephitic miasma over the previous summer, Draco was too near his majority to embrace the innocent ignorance and idealism of his first few years at Hogwarts. However, over the last two months of suspension, spending precious time with family and friends, was a balm to him, and he felt for the first time in a long time that his life was beginning to once again spread out before him. He could make solid plans for the near future and tentative ones for the far future without them looking so bleak and unattainable. Honestly, he never thought he’d feel this way, but Potter was his salvation and Bill was his solace: two Gryffindors. His ancestors were surely turning in their graves.

“Daphne,” Draco sat up and began slowly, wanting to approach this conversation with caution. “A lot has indeed happened in the last six months or so. For myself, it began before the start of the term during the summer. These past few months I have been taking strides to protect myself, my family and to whatever degree possible correct the mistakes of my forefathers and restore honor to the Malfoy legacy. If you want to know the whole of it, then perhaps I should begin the tale. However, in that case there is something you must do first,” Draco stated, drawing his wand a second time.

Daphne was visibly startled. “What are you doing Draco?”

“You must promise to Blaise that you will never speak of what we are about to reveal to you, upon the pain of death.” 

The girl was shocked beyond belief and pained to see that they trusted her so little; she glanced from one determined face to the next. It was clear that they wouldn’t budge from this. They were drawing their own line in the sand, and she honestly couldn’t fathom what they had to tell her, but it was clearly grimmer than anything she had originally imagined. 

“You will not tell me otherwise?” she asked, straightening her back and meeting them eye for eye. 

Blaise shook his head. “We cannot. This is beyond the three of us and can impact the lives of many we care about. We cannot behave carelessly with this information.” 

“I would never willingly or willfully put either of you in danger?” she promised, shaking her head venomously at the mere thought. 

The boys gentled only slightly, knowing that was likely the truth, but it did not change the reality of their situation. 

“Your family has not chosen a side in the war,” Draco told her bluntly, letting her know what this involved. “In regards to the war, the Greengrass family is confirmed neither dark, light, nor neutral, and have only been silent up until this point. Despite our regard for you Daphne—do not doubt that of us—we now have others to think about aside from ourselves.” 

“We are Slytherins at heart: selfishly protective and possessive what and _who_ we consider ours. You know this to be a different sort of loyalty, but loyalty nonetheless and we will not betray them.” 

Daphne’s eyes flew wide as pieces began to slowly fall into place, “Potter? Both of you?” 

They were silent and watchful, ever the suspicious Slytherins even with one of their closest friends. 

Daphne narrowed her eyes as her hackles raised, “You came back to Hogwarts knowing you would do this,” she accused. “Knowing you would force me to choose a side in a war just waiting to explode from the fringes of our society.” 

“We knew that we could no longer lie to you,” Blaise nodded, “and that you would demand answers that we could not give unless steps were taken. But, it is not our intention to force you to choose sides only to ensure that you will safe guard our secrets no matter what decision you make in the future.”

Daphne bit her lip and turned her head away to think. Blaise and Draco were not the only ones with family to think of and protect. She had her own loyalties to her family, and as of this moment her parents had not once mentioned the war to her or her sister although she knew that they must be thinking on it every day. Anyone with half a brain was thinking about it, whether they wanted to admit it or not. The attack on the Ministry and the Azkaban breakout were plenty to strike fear in masses even if the Ministry continued to skirt around the honest truth that the Dark Lord had possibly returned. 

“If…if I do this, this will not tie me to Potter or Dumbledore’s side indefinitely,” she asked, looking for some sort of response from the two but they revealed nothing, only shaking their heads no. “Because I will not betray my family…whatever they may choose.” She whispered the last, fearing ultimately what that might be. Where would the Greengrass’ stand at this crossroads in history? Even she could not say. 

“This will only assure that you will not betray our confidences in the future if you find yourself in a position where you are asked to do so. Doing this, will put you in danger if it ever comes to that. Take that into consideration,” Blaise spoke. 

Daphne hated this, and she hated those that had thrust students into a positon like this. Within Slytherin and Hogwarts at large, many knew that the time to pick a side and choose friends who would likely die with you or across from you would come at some point, but she did not expect to be confronted with that reality so soon. Even still, they were giving her the opportunity to follow them a bit longer without turning away from her family who may yet choose to follow the Dark Lord, be he real or imagined. 

“Alright,” she nodded, lifting her chin and thrusting her hand forward, “I will do this, but aside from holding your secrets, I make no other promises.” 

Draco nodded, moving into position, “That is all we ask. Blaise,” he prompted. 

Zabini grabbed her arm and felt her tight grip on his forearm, just beyond his wrist. “Draco will cast the incantation for the unbreakable vow, and I will set the terms.” 

Daphne nodded. She never would have thought it necessary to make a vow such as this in her lifetime. 

“Daphne Greengrass, do you vow to never speak, write, or otherwise impart to others in any way shape or form any knowledge of what you will have learned here today or what you may yet learn in the future as a consequence of the information shortly to be imparted to you by myself, Blaise Isaac Zabini, and Draco Lucius Malfoy to anyone not presently privy to that information?” 

Daphne swallowed, her mouth gone dry, “This, I vow.” She intoned. 

“Do you vow to never willfully use this information directly or indirectly through an ignorant third party to cause mental, emotional, physical pain or otherwise injury myself, Blaise Isaac Zabini, Draco Lucius Malfoy, Harry James Potter, Ronald Weasley, Sirius Black, Severus Snape, Rabastan Lestrange, Lucius Abraxas Malfoy, Narcissa Malfoy née Black, Bahiti Zabini, William Weasley, Fred Weasley, George Weasley, Alessandro Benjamin Zabini-Dioli, Amaunet or those they count among friends and family?

Daphne’s eyes ballooned at the list of names, more connections fastening in her mind, pulling fragments of a theory that she had never thought possible together. “This, I vow.”

“Do you vow to keep the knowledge of this unbreakable vow a secret and to be magically bound by these terms until the end of your life or the dissolution of the vow upon the pain of death?” 

She took a shaky breath but nodded firmly, “This, I vow.”

“So mote it be,” Draco whispered, a line of fiery red magic shot forth from Draco’s wand, twining about the hands, wrists, and arms of both Blaise and Daphne Greengrass. She gasped and her body went rigid as Draco’s magic struck through her and bound her. As the wave of magic passed she exhaled, believing it to be over only to have a second line of deep purple magic slither from Blaise to wrap around them, binding them a second time with stronger more compelling magic than even the ancient magic of the unbreakable vow. Jerking her head to look up at Blaise and Draco accusingly she was appalled to see the shocked expressions on both of their faces. 

They apparently had no idea that this would happen either, and that worried her more because that meant that likely none of them knew what was happening. However, as the magic took root within her, she was shocked by the strength of the magic but felt this it only reinforced the original magic cast by Draco. 

With a final gasp of breath, Blaise her hand and tore his arm away, staring at his palm as if it were to blame. 

“What was that?” she asked and Draco bent over to observe Blaise’s palm as well. 

“I feel as though I couldn’t speak of whatever secrets you will tell even if I was prepared for death afterward,” she continued, slightly dazed and lightheaded. 

Blaise hummed and closed his hand into a fist with a sigh. “That was likely the unruly magic from the bond that Harry and I share. It has a strong desire to-” Blaise paused. It was difficult to describe to someone who had not been present for the development and evolution of the bond’s magic. 

“Bond? What sort of bond, what does it do?” 

Blaise shook his head and Draco answered on his behalf, “Suffice it to say that it only wants to keep Blaise and Harry safe and together.” 

“Safe and together,” Daphne arched a brow skeptically. 

Blaise nodded, “But let us not place the cart before the horse. That comes later in the story. Draco?” 

The blonde nodded and reclaimed his seat on the bed, lying on his back to comfortably look at the canopy of Blaise’s bed. It made sense for him to begin the story, so that they could maintain a linear narrative. 

“In June of this past summer, my father and mother left the manor for weeks. Vacation they said, but I knew that couldn’t be the truth. Forget about the fact that my parents had never left on vacation without me since I was an infant; there were visitors, Death Eaters, making themselves comfortable in my home. They would never have left me alone with them for vacation or otherwise unless their destination was far more dangerous than those invading our manor.”

Daphne froze and her skin paled ever so slightly. That was her only outward response, but internally she cringed and dreaded the rest of this tale even as she knew she must hear it.

“I am not referring to those minor corrupt officials within the ministry. No, these were inner circle members we had not seen the likes of in over a decade. Like the Dark Lord, their names were whispers in shadows. Their presence in my home became such that I could scarcely leave my rooms without encountering one or another.” 

Draco cut his eyes in their direction but kept his head turned towards the canopy. He let the silence hang for a moment longer before his grave voice filled the charged space once more.

“I am sure you can imagine what it must have felt to have my home and life invaded thusly by such abhorrent and vile individuals.”

Silence prevailed in the room and neither Blaise nor Daphne dared to break it. Even Blaise, who was firmly in Draco’s confidence since the confrontation in the Room of Requirement didn’t know the exact details of the matter because Draco rarely talked about the past summer. They obviously weren’t memories he wanted to relive. Blaise could not blame him. 

“Things only became worse from there,” Draco sighed, rubbing his fingertips roughly across his forehead as if speaking were giving him a headache. “Already I was feeling stressed and frightened,” he whispered, “about what would become of my father and family with his…with well the trouble at the Ministry in fifth year.” He paused and took a deep breath for fortitude, his chest rising and falling so slowly it was uncanny. At length, he began again. 

“Matters only escalated when _he_ entered Malfoy Manor,” Draco growled, filled with anger and uncontrollable fright just thinking about that day. “His first day in my home, the Dark Lord called an audience with me…alone.”

“So it is true? He has returned. You have seen him?” Daphne gasped, horror donning her face. Her breath caught in her through and unbidden tears of fear and dread sprang into her eyes as Draco nodded grimly. It was dreadful to have it confirmed with such certainty. Daphne found herself displaying very un-Slytherin like behavior as she trembled and wrung her hands. 

“He gave me a task to complete by the end of sixth year, an impossible task that I will not reveal here. I hate to even speak of it,” the blonde shuddered slightly. “The Dark Lord knew that I likely would fail and for that failure and my father’s failure as well, he promised in no uncertain terms to, extinguish the Malfoy line once and for all—in the cruelest, most painful, and humiliating ways imaginable. He left no detail untold as he painted my death for me. If I miraculously succeeded, then he would spare us.” 

Daphne was silent and frozen, white as a starched sheet. Her mind whipped through memories of Draco’s gaunt face and snappish behavior, finally understanding where it all stemmed from. 

Here Blaise thought it timely to insert his part into the story as Draco had reached a point where their separate actions were running parallel, and would soon converge.

“My part in all of this begins and ends with Harry.”

Draco snorted. Daphne was about to learn how ironically literal that statement truly was.

“There is little to impart to you about the nascent stages of my relationship with Harry because you were present for the whole of it. It began with the charms project of course,” Blaise began. “We began to spend more time together, and I was able to see more sides to him than I ever assumed were present. Much like ourselves, but of course different at the same time, Gryffindors have the capacity to hide facets of their personalities, or rather perhaps it is more of an unconscious loss of themselves, than any concerted effort towards subterfuge. 

“In any case the more I learned about Harry the more intrigued and charmed by him I became. Surely that was apparent to you and everyone else in the castle because after a short while I stopped taking pains to hide my interest, as did Harry. What you are unaware of is that soon after the start of our project the primary reason I was disappearing at times was due to a magical mishap that-”

Here, Draco snorted even louder with a bit of a laugh. “Magical mishap is a bit of an understatement don’t you think?”

Blaise shrugged, caring very little about the semantics. “Call it what you will, but Harry and I were magically tied together after a night of experimenting in the Room of Requirement. We did not know at the time how lasting and demanding this bond was as it was just budding. However in just a few days’ time, it became such that I could not physically be more than twenty feet away from Harry for any length of time without punishment from the bond which we both experienced as debilitating nerve pain.”

“Surely you jest,” Daphne interjected, narrowing her eyes and casting her disbelieving gaze from one boy to the other. 

Blaise shook his head, “Even now I can feel the bond thrumming within me, connecting me to Harry and vice versa, sharing magic between the two of us.”

“How is that possible? What have you done?” She gasped, genuinely intrigued and appalled. She couldn’t image such a bond although it did answer a great many questions about Blaise’s behavior before the suspension. Then as if just remembering something of great import she jolted and looked around. “If what you say is true then, where is Potter now?”

“He is in Gryffindor Tower likely. The bond does not give me the exact location of his whereabouts just a general idea. If only that it did though,” he sighed wistfully. “Harry spent hours lost in my manor one day with me chasing after a feeling endlessly until he decided to stop and wait for me to locate him. Nevertheless, what you really want to know is why he is not standing over my shoulder twenty feet behind. This is because we worked hard to both train and appease the bond simultaneously, so that the limitations it forced upon us would relax to a point where we could regain our previous level of autonomy with no side effects.”

At this point, Draco could no longer stop himself at snorting and laughed outright for a brief time. _No effects indeed,_ he thought, subtly eyeing Blaise’s flat middle section. 

Blaise and Daphne cut him dismissive, exasperated glances at the third interruption, albeit for very different reasons. Daphne because she was weary of the interruptions; Blaise because he wasn’t ready to tell anyone about who might be growing inside of him. It was too soon to even broach that topic at length with Harry let alone anyone else. 

Zabini cleared his throat and continued once Draco had finally calmed himself. “However, in the first weeks following the disaster in the Room of Requirement, we could not be alone, without each other that is.” 

“How did you manage this?” Daphne asked, remembering times when Blaise was certainly in the Great Hall or Slytherin common room without Potter. 

Draco smirked here and interjected, “Harry possesses an invisibility cloak, so many times when Blaise was with us, so was Potter and the opposite holds true. Blaise here, is likely the first Slytherin to see the inside of Gryffindor Tower in decades.”

Blaise chuckled and settled back onto his elbows, getting comfortable on his bed. It was in fact his after all; it was his right to be comfortable in it even if he was undergoing an interrogation of sorts. 

“So let me make sure I understand the whole of this,” Daphne stated spreading her hands and holding them in the air palms out as if she could stop the flow of conversation with her bare hands. “You, she pointed to Blaise have somehow bonded yourself to Potter, unwillingly and are now stuck with him forever.” 

Blaise frowned, “It is not as dire as you are making it seem. Harry is not holding against my will magically. The bond does not work in that way. He is as much beholden to me as I am to him; there is no one stronger than the other in this because this magic that binds us was created in mutual exchange, initiated both of us and neither of us. Do you understand?” 

Daphne frowned. This still sounded like some sort of manipulation to her, especially since Blaise had never expressed interest in Potter or any Gryffindor prior to this year. Unlike Draco who in the past was venomous in his disdain, Blaise was entirely apathetic to them, never deigning to look twice at one, let alone the _golden boy_. 

Blaise sighed, “I can understand with the way we have worked to exclude everyone and remain secretive that you would have reservations and concerns. I thank you for those, but in time you will see that they are unfounded. What is between Harry and I cannot easily be quantified, qualified, or simplified because of this bond we share, but my initial interest and his was genuine. If anything it was only sped up by the forced nearness. The magic that we are beholden to, even that sounds a bit too strong of a description,” Blaise grumbled, trying to explain without alarming his friend further. “In any case,” he soldiered on, “the magic does not in any way influence our emotions or thoughts because the initial magic, the spell we crafted, was not intended for that purpose.” 

“What was it intended to do,” she asked. 

Zabini smirked and laced his fingers behind his head, laying fully on the mattress. “You will have to wait until Flitwick’s class for that answer.” 

Daphne huffed and sighed, “Alright I will simply have to take your word for it, but I will be watching the two of you closely from now on.” 

“And you will be gagging repeatedly by the end of the week,” Draco assured with a disgusted sneer just thinking about the first days he’d begun spending time with Harry and Blaise openly together. 

Daphne finally smiled for the first time since they had begun this conversation, “Okay, so what does any of this have to do with your suspension.” 

Both boys sobered thinking of the final weeks leading up to being suspended from Hogwarts for two months. “Harry and I began testing our bond on our own in the beginning hoping to find a way to reverse it on our own, but it was impossible. I was attempting to get Harry to ask Professor Snape for help, but he was hesitant. During this time Draco was-”

“Getting really pissed off that Potter appeared to be stealing my best friend right from beneath my nose, so I confronted Blaise, unwittingly in front of Harry at the time,” Draco interjected. “With the stress of the Dark Lord’s threat to my family hanging over my head and the impossibility of my task, I was crumbling beneath the weight of it, and Blaise pulling away was the breaking point.” Draco grit his teeth and turned away as he related this part. It was painful to remember and difficult to admit his failure even if he never intended to complete his task. Not only was it impossible and the Dark Lord knew that; it would have finally condemned his family for good. 

Stuck in a state of inaction and quickly running out of time, Draco was falling apart in those early months. “Well, after my discussion with Blaise, he wanted to meet with me in private, but Harry was there as well, and I’m sure you remember the mental state I was in back them. Potter was the last person I wanted to see, and it didn’t go very well.” 

Blaise nodded gravely, remembering the violent confrontation in the Room of Requirement. It was like the Muggle dynamite: explosive and destructive but over in an instantaneous flash and bang. “After that, Harry promised to help me with the Dark Lord and protect my family if I helped him with something very important to him. He need able bodied, powerful wizards and witches, and I knew three who were desperate to help.” 

By this time Daphne’s eyes had ballooned, “Potter is shielding you from the Dark Lord, how?” 

Blaise shook his head; that was too much for this conversation, too much to reveal ever. Plus, it was getting late and he expressed this to Daphne who nodded but would clearly seek answers at a later date, perhaps from Potter himself if he was willing. 

“Well, what did he need help with? Is that what led to your punishment?” 

“Yes,” Blaise answered. “Since the end of fifth year, Harry believe his Godfather to be dead, lost behind the veil. I am sure like everyone else in the castle, you heard tell of the Gryffindor’s ride to the Ministry last year. Sirius Black was lost at that time, and Dumbledore convinced Harry that the man was dead. We learned that he was not and attempted a dangerous rescue mission beneath the Headmaster’s nose.” Blaise grinned, remembering the look of astonishment, anger, and wild disbelief upon Dumbledore’s face when he found out. 

“It involved a complicated ritual that could have gone wrong in so many ways. In fact, we almost lost Harry and Professor Snape in the process,” Draco continued quietly. “Not to mention the thrice-damned goblins.” 

“And the twins,” Blaise nodded, thinking of the madness at Gringotts. “Lestrange was useful though.” 

Draco nodded and crossed his arms, “But they all paled in comparison to my William.” 

Blaise rolled his eyes and groaned. 

“Goblins?” Daphne asked, quickly losing track of the story at this point as Blaise and Draco bounced back and forth adding details that didn’t necessarily follow a linear path. Daphne just shook her head and cast a silent tempus. Noting the time, she moved to stand at the side of the bed and Draco cancelled the privacy charms. 

“I think that will do for the night boys. I feel there is still much to discuss in detail, but I am simply happy that you both are all right and safe. The rest can wait for tomorrow,” she smiled. “We need to rest for McGonagall’s practical tomorrow. I hope you boys are ready.” 

Blaise and Draco grinned, “You will be surprised tomorrow,” Blaise stated with a nearly imperceptible grimace, recalling the grueling training Sirius pushed them through in their final weeks away.

\---:::---

Hours later, Blaise lay awake upon his back in bed. Even as the warmth in the shared bedroom and the soft coverlet about his waist filled his limbs with lassitude, he glared silently at the canopy above his head. Several thoughts bumbled through his mind: thoughts about Dumbledore and Voldemort—two sides of the same dangerous coin; thoughts about Harry; most of all though was the thought of what might be growing inside of him, what Harry may have placed there.

Blaise raised his shirt and rubbed his stomach lightly with his large hand. The idea of it was almost unfathomable and yet at the same time it was the epitome of magical. Creating a life in any instance was a delicate, taxing process that could go horribly array with disastrous results, but a pregnancy between two wizards was even more so because the fetus grew solely from magic, no real biology in the truest sense was involved. 

There were no eggs such as with a woman, but there was the essence of two individuals, two magically powerful, virile individuals with something extra added, something special and unquantifiable that couldn’t be scientifically or magically accounted for. That is why there was such speculation about whether or not Blaise was truly carrying. It didn’t always happen naturally for every couple. At times, desperate couples would solicit help from both reputable and disreputable healers and potions masters, but that did not always guarantee pregnancy between two partners of the same sex. 

Still, the occurrence was common enough to have at least a few cases of such successful pregnancies and births in many of the ancient and long-standing wizarding families. Consequently, many scholars who have studied the phenomenon believe it to have much to do with strong ancestral magic that sought to propagate itself in new offspring. Unfortunately, this made it difficult for muggleborns in same sex relationships to propagate in such a way. They need to undergo a potions fertility regiment to boost their magic before, during, and after conception. Augmenting one’s normal magical stores in such a way often caused magical strain and stressed the magical core, so the carrier required frequent checkups and had to limit their magic use and exposure to magical items so that their magic would fluctuate as little possible.

In a natural conception, it was quite the opposite. The more magic the carrier was exposed to—from their partner, magical artifacts and people—the more easily supported their pregnancy would be. The reasons why this should be were unknown as was much of what occurred during these sorts or pregnancies.

Blaise sighed heavily and turned over onto his side. He wanted to see Harry, but he had the cloak up in Gryffindor Tower, and so Harry would have to come to him. Unfortunately, that was unlikely. It was their first day back and with the increased security Dumbledore had implemented it was too risky to tempt fate with added detentions to keep them apart longer, or Merlin forbid, another a suspension. His mother could forgive the first, given the circumstances, but she would not abide a second.

Still, he missed having Harry by his side and being able to seek him out whenever he wanted. The yule holiday couldn’t come any sooner.

\---:::---

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: If you want to read more about the development of Bill and Draco’s relationship, check out my Interludes. I will have interlude two up Friday night or Sunday night. It’s already mostly complete. And will be dedicated solely to Draco and Bill as they hash out their relationship and discuss the prospect of their futures.
> 
> **Potential Spoiler Alert:** If you do not wait to know anything about future chapters do not read any further. It is a vague spoiler, but at the request of readers I warn nonetheless.
> 
> I know that many of you are interested in Alessandro’s part in the story. He’s been put in the background for now to move the story along, but he will be back. He is one of the last OCs in this fic and will play a large part. Also, there will be flashbacks to his training sessions as appropriate in coming chapters. **End Potential Spoiler Alert:**


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Hi guys! I know it’s been months since my last post. I apologize for the wait. I don’t have an excuse beside writer’s block. There were a few plot points that I got stuck on, and I couldn’t move forward. All of your comments and kudos were really encouraging though, so I soldiered on and produced the next chapter. Please read and let me know what you think. Again, I really appreciate you all still reading. Please enjoy!

****

“Harry!”

The Gryffindor turned just as he was exiting the Great Hall headed towards charms. 

“Oh, Neville, what is it?” 

The taller boy matched stride with Harry and Ron as they made their way through the growing morning crowd. Blaise, Draco and Daphne were ahead of them. From, the looks that Daphne was giving Harry, he knew that Blaise and Draco had told her something last night. Harry hadn’t the chance yet to ask Blaise what exactly that was though. Whatever it was, it seemed to fill the girl with even more suspicion and mistrust than before, if her speculative glares were anything to go by. 

Turning back to Neville as they approached the moving staircases, Harry asked again, “Did you need something Neville or did you just want to join us on our walk to transfigurations. If that’s all you wanted, then you’re more than welcome of course.” 

Neville smiled, “That’d be great Harry, but I actually did want to give you this,” Neville held up a small bit of parchment. “Hedwig flew in with it just moments after you left the hall. She seemed a bit peeved that she’d missed you. I take it her timing’s usually always spot on.” 

Harry chuckled. 

“This it is,” Ron answered for Harry. “Much better than other rotten owls I know.” 

“Errol was a might unreliable,” Neville hedged, rubbing his neck in sympathy. He’d had his fair share of unreliable pets too over the years, particularly toads. 

“I’ll say,” Ron grumbled, “a right disgrace that old bird became at the end.” 

“Okay, okay, that’s enough of talking poorly about the deceased, hand that over now will you, Nev,” Harry asked. 

The boy gave up the parchment and struck up a conversation with Ron as Harry read its contents. 

_Your training sessions will resume forthwith, beginning tonight after dinner.  
—Headmaster Dumbledore_

As he finished reading the parchment and closed it, it burst into a spark of flame. The ashes dispersed in seconds. 

“What was that Harry,” Ron asked, craning his neck to see the small collection of ashes being trod on by students. He turned back to Harry just as they came upon the door to McGonagall’s locked classroom. The group was a little early.

Harry shrugged, “The Headmaster wants to see me after dinner tonight, but he didn’t say what it’s about.” 

“You think it might have something to do with your suspension. You’ve been back barely a day, what trouble could you have gotten into without me so soon,” Ron nudged with a grin. 

Harry smiled, “None.” He didn’t tell Ron about his training with Dumbledore, but he didn’t want to outright lie his friend anymore. Besides, a visit to the Headmaster’s office was hardly strange for Harry. The Gryffindor had frequented the man’s office often over the years, especially when he was much younger. 

“You received a message from Dumbledore, Harry?” Blaise asked, stepping beside Harry as the still small group of sixth years waited and milled about in the hall. 

Harry smiled up Blaise, taking a moment to really gaze at his calm face. “Heard that did you?” 

Zabini nodded, “You cannot say that you were attempting to keep it very quiet, Harry. Besides, it is my job to know what is going on with you considering how much trouble you are always involved in.” 

Harry rolled his eyes but nodded because it was indisputably true. “And I suppose I should also take care to know what’s going with you as well.” He raised a hand and rubs his fingers gently underneath Blaise’s eyes. You couldn’t see it for the glamor, but there was a slight swelling beneath two tired eyes that Harry could feel. “You didn’t sleep well last night,” Harry stated. 

Blaise shook his head, “No, I cannot say that I did. Did you?” 

“I’ve had better nights, but I fear that I fared much better than you,” Harry sighed, stepping closer to Blaise and further from the group of students. 

Blaise didn’t comment right away, instead wrapping his arms around Harry’s back and dragging him forward for a tight embrace. “I missed you. I do not know that I can return to sleeping soundly without you in my bed Harry. I worry about you. Plus,” he smirked. “My feet get cold when I sleep alone.”

“Oi, I’m not personal space heater you wanker. Be serious.” Harry grinned, pinching the Slytherin’s back. Blaise merely smiled serenely with no comment. After a moment, Harry sobered and spoke.

“I love you, Blaise, and I worry too,” Harry tilted his head and stood on his toes to whisper in Blaise’s ear. “And, I would not see you suffer sleepless nights when it can easily be remedied. Especially not if you are indeed carrying. You will need your rest for that and for the days to come after we leave for Yule. I will give you my cloak and the new portrait password, and if you think it’s safe, sneak into my dorm and wait for me there after my _meeting_ with Dumbledore tonight.” 

Blaise exhaled and released Harry to put a small amount of space between them. The number of students arriving was growing quickly, and he didn’t want to cause a scene needlessly, no matter how much Harry’s words made him want to cling to him that much more. The Slytherin didn’t think he would ever tire of hearing Harry confess his love to him. 

He reached a hand out and began to straighten Harry’s hair as much it would allow, pushing several strands away from Harry’s face. He gazed down at him adoringly. “I will be there, waiting for you tonight. We have been in the castle less than two days, and already there is much to discuss.” 

Harry grinned flirtatiously, “Surely, you’ll forgive me if I want to spend less time talking and more time on more _exciting_ things later tonight?” 

His intended smiled back at him, “Harry Potter,” Blaise growled, stepping into Harry space once more. 

“Now, now boys. That’ll be enough of that. We have first year students gathering just down the hall for charms. Let’s not scar the children,” Draco teased, sidling up to Harry and draping his arm across his shoulders. 

“Malfoy’s right, although it hurts me to say so,” Ron grumbled, joining them.

Draco smirked and puckered his lips at the redhead, “Get used to it Weasley. You’ll be admitting that a lot more in the future I’d daresay.” 

Ron rolled his eyes, but with little ire, “Come on you guys, McGonagall’s opened the door. Let’s just get into the class and get this practical over with. The sooner we pass this, the sooner we can sit exams and then leave for the holiday.” 

“You do know that’s not how this works right? That’s not how any of this works,” Draco spoke, lifting an eyebrow. “Exams aren’t for another two weeks. Hurrying the practicals along today aren’t going to make the days between now and exams pass any quicker. 

Ron groaned, “You know what I mean. Just because Harry likes you now, doesn’t mean I don’t still think you’re a tosser, so shove off Draco.” 

Draco merely smiled snidely. Ron was easier to deal with now that Draco was courting his older brother and hated the Weasley family as a whole much less. Still, it was fun and entirely too easy to goad him into bickering.

“He only does it because it gets to you so much Ron,” Harry said, seeing right through Draco. Ron just huffed and turned to enter the classroom.  
As they all filed in, Daphne stood back and observed the lot of them. She just couldn’t believe the vast differences in behavior from what she’d seen just two months ago before the suspensions. Ron Weasley had remained in the castle with the rest of students, and yet he was behaving with a level of familiarity and lack of animosity towards Blaise and Draco that was inexplicable. He hadn’t had the time away from the castle to bond with the Slytherins which would have explained such a drastic change in behavior. 

Daphne wanted to ask about it, but she feared that she wouldn’t receive much in the way of a satisfying answer. Moreover, she was beginning to feel that she probably didn’t have much of a right to know, given that she couldn’t choose their side of the war at present. She’d learned a lot last night from Blaise and Draco, but she was sure that it only tipped the iceberg. There was much they simply wouldn’t share with her because their loyalties had changed, and she unfortunately couldn’t count herself as one of their top priorities any longer. 

It saddened her a little, but not as much as one might think. She was actually proud of them for taking a stand and protecting their families to the best of their abilities. Many people had a lot to say about the selfish and prideful manner of Slytherins, but despite the oxymoron her next thought presented, she couldn’t help but truly believe that the two young men before her were selfish in the most honorable way possible. They didn’t want to be hurt by losing what was most precious to them. In that way there were selfish indeed, but they would put their lives on the line bravely and without hesitation, hoping for the best, if that was the only viable option. 

In that moment, upon that realization, Daphne decided that she couldn’t put her two closest friends at risk or harass them further about their secrets until she came to terms with her own future. From here on out she would just be their friend: eat with them, share trivial secrets about House crushes and her sister’s antics, complain about exams and the like. That was all that she would do until such a time that the Dark Lord was no longer a looming threat over them. 

Her thoughts were interrupted as she took her seat beside Draco and McGonagall’s stern voice filled the room. 

“Students, today is the day that you showcase your hard work on the animagus and live animation spells. This year the class is split nearly in half on your different classifications. Therefore, we will alternate. We will begin with an animagus transformation, and then someone will try their hand at the animation spell and so forth until everyone has attempted one of the two tasks. I trust that all of you have been practicing diligently?” She eyed the three suspended students most closely, waiting for their nods of assent. She hadn’t been able to watch over them the way that she had with the other students, and it concerned her greatly that all three of them were attempting the animagus transformation. 

“For those attempting the animagus transformation, if you complete the transformation successfully you will be responsible for picking up a Ministry form from me to have your animagus form properly registered.” With a deliberate wave of her wand, a stack of parchment appeared at the edge of her desk. 

“I warn you all now. If you are at all underprepared or experiencing a lack of conviction you had better forgo attempting the animagus transformation right this instant. It is dangerous, and if you take the spell too far in the wrong direction there exists the possibility that we will be able to do nothing for you. It would be better to take a zero than to risk permanent disfigurement or worse. Do you understand?” 

With a room full of serious nods and nervous frowns, Minerva turned and moved back to her desk. “Then let us begin.”

\---:::---

“A red panda, Ron? I would never have guessed,” Harry grinned amused. He just couldn’t imagine his giant friend, shrinking down into such a small, adorable animal.

Ron blushed, “Well, we can’t all be panthers,” he grumbled, glaring at the side of Blaise’s head who merely smirked triumphantly but remained silent. “Besides, red pandas eat birds, Harry.” Ron turned back to Harry with a sharp grin.

Harry bumped Ron’s shoulder companionably, “First, that’s not true. I don’t need an expert to tell me that. They might eat bird eggs at times, but I’d love to see one try to invade a harpy eagle’s nest. You know red pandas are endangered right?” 

“Whatever, Harry just because-”

“Let’s just be happy that we all successfully completely the transformation,” Neville interrupted before Ron could finish. 

“I agree with Longbottom,” Daphne nodded, speaking for the first amongst the whole group of Gryffindors and Slytherins since the start of the day. “I was astounded by how quickly the three of you each completed your transformations though. That’s the fastest I’ve ever seen it done besides by McGonagall perhaps.” 

Harry grinned, “Well we had some of the best tutors while we were away.” 

Ron snorted, “I can only imagine that Padfoot was all too happy to help.” 

“That he was,” Blaise nodded, “but he was not the only one that helped.” 

Draco nodded, “If needed, it was thought wise to cultivate the skill of transformation for battle scenarios, so what you saw in there wasn’t nearly the fastest we can transform.” 

“Nor was it the limit of the skills we have mastered when it comes to transforming,” Harry continued where Draco left off. 

“It’s not?” 

“Oh, you would be surprised to see what we can do,” Blaise grinned confidently but said no more.

\---:::---

Meanwhile, miles away in Grimmauld Place, Sirius looked up from the Malfoy Manor blueprints when Remus walked into the kitchen only to pause at the doorframe for several long moments. Despite having the home restored to its former glory with perfectly serviceable sitting rooms and parlors, the kitchen was still the primary meeting place within Grimmauld Place, and now that the home was livable, Sirius, Remus, Rabastan, and the elder Weasley boys spent majority of their time there. They met regularly with Lady Zabini and the Malfoys, but Lucius and Narcissa had become accustomed to Zabini Manor and elected to live there for the time being with Bahiti and Alessandro. Amaunet was planning to divide her time between Hogwarts and wandering about the wizarding world doing only Merlin knew what.

Rabastan still spent most of his time in the twins’ flat, but as Grimmauld Place was closer than the Manor he spent more time with Sirius and Remus when away from the twins’ shop. 

“What is it Moony?” Sirius asked arching an eyebrow and standing up. He was trying to work out more of the finer details for Harry’s plan, particularly his part because this was very dangerous, and he couldn’t risk his son because of carelessness. To win this war, he knew that Harry would need to take risks, but he would do everything in his power to mitigate the danger involved. 

“I am just surprised every time I see you, and I can’t help but think that if I had just tried…tried a little harder you wouldn’t have…” 

Remus looked away and trailed off, the words trapped in this throat. He tried to hold his guilt and regrets in as much as possible so as not to lower the mood every time he shared a room with Sirius. Still, as much as seeing Padfoot alive was joyous, all the same it filled him with such shame at just how many times he had failed his friend. 

Sirius stood and walked over, embracing his longest living friend tightly. “Enough now. You’ve been walking on eggshells around me and Harry ever since you returned from the continent. You need to stop it now. Everyone believed me dead, and I would have thought the same had things been reversed. No one has ever returned from the far side of the veil.” 

Remus chuckled and stepped back, “You did.” 

“No,” Sirius shook his head, “Harry and Severus mulishly dragged me out.” 

The werewolf smiled, “Harry and Severus both always seem to accomplish feats that others find neigh impossible.” 

“Yes,” Sirius laughed lightly with his old friend. “Harry has such hope, belief, and power that he can do almost anything I believe. Severus it seems,” he shook his head fondly, “just glares at the problem and dares it to defy him.” 

Remus grinned. “That he does. His glare didn’t seem to cow you though.” 

“As if it ever could,” Sirius snorted. 

“That’s certainly true. I am happy to see you both happy, but I must admit my great surprise. Certainly, I am happy for the peace and quiet, but how did you ever come to be together romantically?” 

Sirius reclaimed his seat and beckoned for Remus to take one as well. 

“Things between Severus and I are slow but progressing. There are a lot of past grievances for us to overcome, but he rescued me and nursed me back to health Remus, all for the sake of Harry. I learned long ago while in Azkaban that it was time to overcome childish things and petty rivalries. But even more than that, in his own way he’s come to love my boy, and I couldn’t over look that. Then, as I was joking with him and needling him during my recovery, I began to see more of what Lily once saw in him before James and I forced them apart.”

Remus nodded and silently acknowledged his own hand in that as well. It wasn’t James and Siri alone although that’s often how the story’s told. “Yes, those weren’t our finest days, no.”

Sirius shrugged uncomfortably. He didn’t like to discuss it overmuch. He talked about those days with Severus because the man deserved that much, for Sirius to acknowledge the pain he caused. That was truly the only way they would be able to move forward as a couple. Still, because it filled him with not a small amount of shame, he didn’t care to discuss it for long otherwise.

Before Sirius or Remus could respond with more about Sirius’ romantic ventures, Rabastan entered the kitchen, followed by a single redhead. 

Sirius grinned, “Looks like your matching pair is missing one.”

Rabastan grinned, “And thank Merlin for that. I believe it’s their goal to exhaust me both physically and mentally.”

“Fred would hate that you said that. Besides,” George wound his hands around the man’s waist from behind. “You know you love it.”

If he were any other man, Rabastan might have blushed. Instead, he simply extricated himself and rolled his eyes. “Shut your mouth your incorrigible bastard.”

“Mm, talk dirty to me,” George leered, with a slow-growing smile. 

Remus arched an eyebrow passively while George dodged a very sharp elbow.

Sirius laughed aloud and shook his head, returning his gaze to the schematics stretched out before. It was all a trifle complicated because it wasn’t simply a detailed layout of every room. The very large parchment before him showed every courtyard, garden and broom closet within Malfoy Manor and any other holding on the property like the stables and sheds where the elves kept the larger grounds maintenance equipment. Despite the Malfoys’ eagerness to help with this plan, Sirius knew how much it must have pained Lucius to part with this information. 

As a child, Sirius spent many years rebelling his family, but he never forgot their teachings even if he willfully ignored much of it. What he did know was that the fully detailed blueprints both architectural and magical were a secret as closely guarded by pureblood families as their firstborn heirs because in part, the manor home was the foundation to the families’ legacy. 

He’d rarely been to the Black Manor on the continent as a child, and he’d never wanted to spend much time there as an adult because he didn’t want to deal with the dark secrets and magical traps that lay within. Still, he couldn’t imagine giving anyone outside of Harry and perhaps Severus and Remus the keys to unlocking all of its mysteries. A family as old as the Malfoys or Blacks hid their most precious treasures in one of two places, Gringotts with the Goblins or in the magical trappings of their homes. This is because in the days of kings and vassals, the home was the last place of retreat, the last and most desperate line of defense. Though they had already long proven themselves to be true to Harry by Sirius’ standards, this final act, baring themselves to people they couldn’t trust just months earlier solidified their allegiance to his godson for Lord Black. Sirius would not disgrace the faith laid before him by failing this mission. 

More importantly, he wouldn’t risk his godson with a failed attempt to retake Malfoy Manor due to unpreparedness. At its core, this was a covert act of war, and it needed to e treated with all the gravity such an undertaking warranted. 

“Enough now, let’s focus,” Sirius spoke up, breaking up their teasing and bickering. “We have to go over the wards that we know to be active at Malfoy Manor, and try to come up with a plan to deal with the ones that Voldemort may have added recently. Lucius and the others will be arriving shortly to test the prototype communication devices the three of you have been developing.” 

George sobered and moved over to look at the parchments spread over the large kitchen table. He whistled, this being his first time seeing this information, unfurling one of the smaller pieces Sirius had yet to look at. “We need to have all this memorized before the Hogwarts’ students are released for Yule Break?” 

Remus grimaced and nodded, moving to stand closer to the table between Rabastan and Sirius. “Yes, we need to have an intimate knowledge of the manor’s architecture and the wards we’re likely to encounter. Ancestral magic can be very unpredictable and volatile when riled, and Harry is planning to usurp Malfoy magic as the dominating force protecting and controlling Malfoy Manor. Regardless of the fealty bond in place, it won’t take kindly to it. The best that we can do as a team is assure that no one disturbs the castors, especially Lucius and Harry, during and after the ritual because they will be vulnerable to attack then and completely drained once finished.” 

“We will need to be in constant contact throughout which is where your devices come in,” Sirius pointed out. “We hope that we can begin to initiate the plan before we’re noticed, but we will be noticed eventually as the magic begins to gather around the manor. We’ll need several lines of defense around each point, and if there is a breach we’ll need to be able to call for backup through a connection that can’t be traced in the castle or magically interrupted,” Remus said looking for the most defensible areas of the manor. 

“The most troubling aspect will be assuring that the Dark Lord doesn’t summon troops while we’re doing this. We need to finish this quickly,” Rabastan commented. “Or, we need to erect barriers of our own when we arrive that will keep others out. It is troubling that we no longer have a spy on the inside who can tell us when the manor will be at its emptiest and most vulnerable to attack.”

Remus sighed heavily, worry lines starting to crease his brow. “We can be as efficient as we want, but the ritual will still take a certain amount of time. We can’t cut corners for the sake of speed as that could blow up in our faces, quite literally and, we could be the ones cast out instead.”

“I think we’re going to need to come to terms with the fact, that someone may have to engage Voldemort to keep him distracted from calling reinforcements and locating Harry or the Malfoys. They’re the most important pieces to this; we must protect them at all costs,” Bill said, entering the kitchen. 

“Exactly,” George nodded grimly with a furrowed brow and crossed arms, “Harry’s not going to like that.” 

“He’ll want to be the one to do it,” Rabastan agreed. 

Sirius worried his lip, “Luckily, this time he’ll quite literally have his hands full with another beast. I don’t know that anyone has tried to do something like this and come through the other end unscathed.”

“People also used to say that about extended stays at Azkaban and trips through the veil,” Remus commented smiling mildly at Sirius. “There’s quite a bit that this group has accomplished that has been considered impossible at one time or another. There’s no reason to dwell on the reasons why we might not conquer this feat as well. We must prepare as best we can, control what can be controlled, and have faith for the rest of it.” 

Silence reigned in the room as the men each nodded. 

Sirius took a deep breath, “Yes, let’s give Harry the best chance to succeed and deal with the fallout afterwards. Rabastan, Lucius mentioned that you could map out the ley lines beneath the manor?”

\---:::---

Hours later, in their last class of the day, Neville and Draco stood before a class full of sixth year Gryffindors, Ravenclaws and Slytherins in advanced charms.

“Well done boys,” Flitwick clapped in his characteristic excited manner. Neville smiled, pleased, while Draco grinned triumphantly. Despite his two-month absence, Malfoy knew that they would do well. At the start of the term, they were assigned the charms equivalent to the pepper-up potion. It was slightly weaker and not nearly as long-lasting as its potion counterpart, which was par for the course with most charms when compared to potions. 

The boys’ idea was to adapt the charm using the base of a herbology strengthening spell colloquially called _green hand_ to strengthen it. Normally, the herbology strengthening charm only worked on plants that were struggling in winter or drought conditions. They chose to use the herbology charm because it’s one of the longest lasting strengthening charms they knew, intended to last from first sprouting until harvest months later. It was Draco’s idea after figuring out how the pepper-up charm worked to adjust its magical make up so that Neville’s strengthening charm would effect it. 

“Very inspired,” Flitwick cheered again at the end of their demonstration. They’d cast the spell on him, and it was hard to believe the but half-goblin was more chipper than ever. “Full marks my boys, twenty points to Slytherin and Gryffindor.” 

The classroom erupted into cheers and clapping. That was the largest bonus of the day. Flitwick was clearly pleased with their ingenuity. “Does anyone have any questions for them before we move on to the final demonstration of the day?”

“Yes, I have a question, Professor,” Jacob Graffe, a sixth year Ravenclaw asked, narrowing his eyes. 

“Well, speak up my boy,” the half goblin urged. 

“How can they receive full marks when they simply used an already existing spell to augment the effects of their assigned charm? The assignment dictated that we were remake the assigned charm,” the boy challenged.

Draco rolled his eyes. _What was the sorting hat thinking when it sorted this ponce into the Eagle House?_

Flitwick turned to Draco and Neville, “Boys, care to answer?” 

“As we explained at the start of our presentation, the green hand spell only works on plants,” Draco began. 

“Living plants,” Neville added. “Concisely, the spell helps dying plants regain their vigor, particularly during droughts or deep winter. As it’s an advanced herbology technique, I won’t go into how it does this but believe that it does. However, it does not have the same effect on other living matter, and has no effect at all on immaterial or inorganic matter such as magic.”

Draco nodded, “So, the difficulty of our project lay in taking our assigned charm and transforming it, so that it was recognized and properly affected by the strengthening charm while still making certain that the pepper-up charm still worked as it should. If you don’t believe us, then feel free to read our accompanying fifteen scroll essay. I think you’ll find that it more than satisfies the requirements of the term project, not that I care about you think in the slightest,” the blonde sneered. 

Laughs broke out throughout the room. 

“Alright, that will be enough of that. Do take your seats boys. We have one final group to go before we dismiss. Potter, Zabini, do step up.”

Harry bounded from his seat. He was excited to present their work. He cut his eyes over to Blaise and grinned. The boy wasn’t paying attention to him at the moment, but Harry couldn’t help but think about how they had come full circle with this project that started everything that fateful day in the Room of Requirement so many months ago. 

Flitwick grinned at them with seemingly boundless enthusiasm. “Begin with the charm that you were assigned and the aspect of it that you wanted to improve. Tell us briefly how you went about it, and then demonstrate the end result.”

“Alright,” Blaise began while Harry went about the room setting up screens at the windows to cast additional shadows in the room. “We were assigned the _accio_ charm. It is a simple, effective charm for the most part, but it did not take long to decide what we wanted to change about the charm.” 

Finished with the initial preparation, Harry stepped up to his side, “Ultimately, we decided to change how the item summoned moves around to make it safer and quieter for stealth purposes. To do that, we needed to change the _accio_ charm so that it was receptive to an additional charm that alters the properties of the summoned object.” 

“The charms have to be cast simultaneously. Are you ready Harry?”

“Yes.” They both raised their wand and cast together. The incantations were on the longer side, but seconds later a dark mark passed outside the window, disappeared and then reappeared on the inside, sliding around the room until it materialized as Harry’s firebolt and slapped into his waiting hand. 

The grins of triumph that Harry and Blaise shared were blinding. Murmurs of speculation spread throughout the room. 

“Well, boys that was certainly interesting, care to explain what was done,” Flitwick asked with an excited gleam in his eye. 

“Of course,” Blaise answered, gesturing to the window and the screens casting shadows. “In short, the magic of Harry’s altered _accio_ charm reached his firebolt and my charm, appended to Harry’s, changed the properties of the broom for the duration of its trip here.” 

“Indeed,” Flitwick hummed, intrigued. “So, the two of you altered the assigned charm and then created an additional charm to go with it?”

The boys nodded. “That’s the short of it.” 

A hand rose in the room, “But what did the second charm do exactly?” 

“It changed the broom in two ways. First it changed it so that it could move silently through shadows. In that way, the broom wouldn’t break things in the broom closet down on the pitch nor would it crash into things in this room or outside as it made its way to me.” 

“The downside to the charm,” Blaise picked up the explanation, “is that it could take longer than normal charm because the object will seek out shadows to move through which may take it in an indirect route as opposed to straight to the caster.”

“Fantastic. Very well done my boys. I have not witnessed such an ambitious undertaking in many a year, fifty points to Slytherin and Gryffindor.,” The tiny professor was clapping and could scarcely contain himself, jittering in place at the back of the room.

\---:::---

Later that eveningt Harry entered the Head Master’s office. “Good evening Professor,” Harry said.

“Hello, Harry,” the Headmaster smiled. “Are you ready for tonight. We have quite a few more memories to go through to make up for the time we missed during your suspension. We won’t dwell on that any further; I am sure you have learned your lesson well.” 

Harry sighed but decided to make no comment. They had reached a terminal impasse, and discussing it further would change nothing. 

“Okay, Professor Dumbledore. I am ready to begin when you are.” 

Dumbledore nodded and ushered Harry over to his pensieve. Hours later the two emerged, having gone over many memories that featured Voldemort at one point or another in his life.

“These were certainly helpful sir, but I’m wondering if we’re simply going in circles. These memories aren’t leading us any closer to where in Egypt or the Amazon Voldemort may have hidden the Founders’ heirlooms. I think that we’d be better off, learning more about the nature of horcruxes, so that we might be able to develop a more direct method for seeking them out, some sort of advanced point-me spell or tracking ritual. I’ve been thinking, and a piece of someone’s soul—especially Voldemort’s—must radiate some level of magical energy that might be traceable.” Harry held his breath as he finished because he couldn’t imagine what the Headmaster’s response would be. However, given the way the man’s back stiffened, it likely wasn’t going to be a favorable response. 

“Harry, you mustn’t ever utter such words again. Horcruxes are vile pieces of magic, walking the path to learn more about them will only lead to your corruption and ultimate destruction.”

Harry swept a hand towards the pensieve and the four remaining vials of memories. “I still don’t know where you found these memories or who they came from, but despite Voldemort’s arrogance, I cannot believe that he would have told anyone about the locations of his darkest secrets. There’s nothing they can tell us that will shed more light on that. What else do you suggest we do?” 

A stern expression crossed Dumbledore’s face. “I will not discuss that line of inquiry with you any further Harry. I forbid any explorations into the nature of dark magic, especially Horcruxes,” he finished on a hacking cough, clutching his chest. 

Harry moved over to the pitcher of water Dumbledore now kept in his office and poured the Headmaster a glass of water. As he poured, he worked to regain his composure. He turned and handed the glass to the man just as he sat down behind his desk. 

“I do not mean to upset you, sir,” Harry shook his head, “But I can’t help but feel that our time would be better spent elsewhere. If you do not want to do anything more with the horcruxes at this time, then that’s fine. But, why tell me about them so early in the year? For the rest of this school year at least, I will be here at Hogwarts and can’t go out searching for them. It will take years—at best—to find them if we simply go to Egypt or some other faraway place and search without direction. That’s time that I don’t have while I am still a student.”

“I have told you because destroying them is what it will take to win this war, but I did not intend for this to spark an interest in them.” 

Harry shook his head, “It didn’t, not in the way you are imagining. I would never dream of doing something like to myself, but, ‘ _know thysefl, know thy enemy_.’ We have to know the nature of the enemy we’re fighting or we will fall to it,” Harry urged, glancing unconsciously at the Headmaster’s injured hand. 

“Enough Harry. This is not up for debate,” Dumbledore knocked his fist against the ancient wood of his desk and shook his head tiredly. “You will not research them, not that you could find much information about them anyway. We will glean what we can from the memories and make a plan from there to hunt the horcruxes after you have graduated from Hogwarts.” 

“That’s nearly two years from now! How do you suggest we deal with Voldemort in the time being? He won’t sit idly by waiting for me to graduate and face him. You haven’t even helped me develop true combat skills. He could kill me tomorrow; then where would we be? What would become of the wizarding world?” 

“It will not come to that,” Dumbledore hoped to reassure the Gryffindor. “You are correct that Tom will continue to fight and oppose us, but the Order will protect you until the time comes that you can destroy the horcruxes and face him.” 

Harry threw his hands up and began to pace. Once again, the Headmaster wanted to push Harry to the wayside and let others die to defend him. “In that time, while others are dying for me and I am hiding away, will you begin combat training, so that I might prepare properly for battle?” 

“As such a time is far in the future, we need not worry about that now. Simply focus on your studies and that will give you the foundation you will need for later development. When the time comes, you will be ready and with ‘the power he knows not’ you will vanquish him.”

Harry gaped and his voice began as a whisper before it rose in anger. “I don’t understand. How can you believe something so foolish, Professor Dumbledore?” Harry glared while shaking his head stark disbelief. “You think that it will just happen that easily? People will die! I nearly died by his hand several times already since I was a year old.” 

“Mind your tongue Harry,” Dumbledore stood to his full height with true irritation on his face. “Despite what others may have you believe, you are still a student of Hogwarts and a ward in my charge for the duration of the school term. As your Headmaster, I will have your respect.” His face softened only slightly at Harry’s silence. “Also, know that I have your best interest at heart Harry. I only do this to give you as close to a normal student life and experience as possible. Combat lessons will not help that. You say that you’ve nearly died, but you haven’t. You have stopped him time and again without advanced combat training. Do not try to place too much on your shoulders at such a young age Harry.” 

“Look around us!” Harry urged, losing his temper and swinging his hands about them in Dumbledore’s memory. “I do not, nor will I ever have a normal student life or anything that remotely resembles one. I have come to terms with that. I need you to do so as well. I was never the person to heap too much on my shoulders. The wizarding world did that without my permission or knowledge while I wasted away with the Durselys for ten years!”

Harry took a deep breath to calm himself. “If I do not learn to properly protect myself, I will die at the hands of Voldemort. I need to learn advanced battle tactics and spells. The normal curriculum in the DA classes will not suffice. Surely you can understand this?” 

“Harry,” the Headmaster gazed at the boy sadly and worriedly. “It will not come to that, and you must know that we cannot teach such magic here. Much of it is dark mag-”

Harry groaned and threw his hands in the air. Dumbledore didn’t know about his training at Zabini Manor. As far as the Headmaster knew Harry was as defenseless as he was at the start of the year, and he meant to keep the boy that way.  
“How does that matter?” Harry asked. “I want to know what I need to survive and win this war. I want to be able to grow old and have a family, maybe raise children someday. I can’t do that if entire sectors of magic are forbidden to me. This belief that all magic not sanctioned by the Ministry is dark and anathema is misguided and will get many people killed once Voldemort attacks in earnest, chief among them will be me!” 

Fury darkened Dumbledore’s face and his shoulders stilled with steely determination and anger such as Harry had never seen grace his face. “Harry Potter! You will not speak to me about teaching dark magic. This is not to be born! Do you understand me? The Order will protect you while you hunt the horcruxes after your seventh year. With this sickness destroying my body, I will not be there at the end. Hopefully, I will make it to see the start of your seventh year, but with or without me I know that after they have been destroyed, a confrontation with Voldemort will be easily won with his destroyed soul.” 

Harry had reached his limit of forbearance as well and closed his mouth with a resounding click. There was no longer a need for further discussion. The Headmaster knew little, if anything, concrete about horcruxes, their original purpose or how they worked in the past. Amaunet’s progress in regaining magic and attaining levels of strength comparable to that of her original self only proved that a single horcrux could grow in strength and likely surpass the strength and abilities of the original creator. The Headmaster’s thinking that Voldemort would be weakened, magically and physically by the destruction of his remaining horcruxes was a fallacy that staggered Harry.

“Do you know anything more about horcruxes?” 

Dumbledore sighed tiredly, hoping that Harry had finally returned to truly important matter at hand. “Only that they must be destroyed at all costs.” 

He watched as the boy shook his head as if disgusted. “You know nothing more?” 

“What more is there to know, my boy? To learn too much and delve too deeply into dark magic is to lose the way of the light, Harry. If I have taught you nothing, surely you must have learned this?” 

Harry grit his teeth in mounting frustration. They were going back and forth in circles. “Do you know that horcruxes, as far as my research can tell, were originally created by the Egyptian Gods and Goddesses eons ago when they began to lose the love and faith of their people. Their magic, as attained through the devotion of their people began to wane and they couldn’t maintain corporeal form here on this plane of existence. Still, they wanted to leave behind whatever they could of themselves to protect the people they loved in spite of their waning belief. The first horcruxes, the spell and knowledge that Voldemort twisted and used for his own gains—which you believe to be dark vile magic of the highest order—was created out of love. The desire to protect loved ones even when separated by distances incomprehensible by humans prior to death.” 

The portraits behind the Headmaster’s desk looked on with rapt attention; some were horrified, others intrigued. 

“Harry,” Dumbledore gasped, deeply appalled and frightened. “What have you done? You must never speak of this!” the man turned his head about as if others were in the room to overhear. “Do you hear me?” he asked, wisps of his hair flying wildly as he abruptly reached for Harry. He grabbed the boy and shook him hard. Before his eyes he saw a transformation in Harry that resembled another orphan boy from years gone by and he despaired. “You mustn’t,” he whispered harshly with a gasping breath. 

“Let go of me, Headmaster,” Harry jerked, trying to shake off the man’s painfully clenching hands. Dumbledore couldn’t hear him though as his mind raced, trying to find a way to steer Harry from the darkness and back to the light. 

“Where did you find such information, Harry,” Dumbledore asked, “for it is not true. As far as it is written the spell for horcruxes has always been used at the expense of others, not only the wielder. As you have seen, a sacrifice must be made to create them. Someone must die; you must believe me. Whatever it is you have been told or led to believe, it isn’t true.”

Dumbledore released him and began to cough and rub his chest as it pained him. Severus’ potions were working to sustain him, but the man could only be happy that the Dark Lord and his Death Eaters had been relatively silent since Bellatrix’s impromptu attack on Hogsmeade. If he took it easy and maintained his strength, he may yet live another year or possibly two. However, he wasn’t certain that he would survive too many full battles, and that thought made him despair more than ever as he watched the path Harry was descending on. In his eyes, he couldn’t see a young man doing everything in his power to defeat evil. He saw an impressionable boy who he’d thought ready to lead the light but was walking dangerously close to the shadows. He couldn’t truly believe that Harry would triumph over Voldemort without succumbing to the same darkness that had consumed bright, young Tom Riddle.

Harry knew now that this was a lost cause and that trying to convince the Headmaster was a waste of time. It seemed that the man was determined to misunderstand and doubt him. He would have to continue his combat training on his own without the aid of the Headmaster, and he would keep any new knowledge of horcruxes to himself. Certainly, destroying the horcruxes was important to the ultimate demise of the Dark Lord, but it would have little bearing on the final battle wherever and whenever that should occur. It was obvious that the Gryffindor would have to continue to take matters into his own hands while maintaining a distance from Dumbledore. 

It pained Harry to think that in Dumbledore’s final moments, he would have to live a lie without either of them fully embracing each other into their hearts before the man passed away. Whatever his thoughts on Harry and his antiquated ideas about magic and the war, Dumbledore had dedicated his life to protecting peace in the wizarding world. Harry had learned a lot from him in the past, even if in recent months they had begun to take divergent paths toward the same goal.

“Okay, Headmaster. You are right; regardless of our personal thoughts on the matter; at some point the horcruxes must be destroyed. We should put our energy towards that end.” 

Dumbledore narrowed his eyes, considering Harry. “You are right, of course, my boy. I only worry about you dearly. Still, you must cast aside these thoughts of yours and focus on the task at hand. If you continue in this way, conducting dark rituals and researching that which no man should unearth a second time, there will be nothing I can do to stop your expulsion from Hogwarts. Your wand would be snapped, Harry. Do you understand me?”

“Clearly, Headmaster,” Harry muttered quietly. 

Dumbledore nodded, mentally and emotionally exhausted, “Then we are done for the day. I will summon you for the last viewing when it is time.” 

Dumbledore watched the boy leave his office and sat heavily behind his desk. He hung his head in his hands and mumbled to himself, “Something…something must be done.”

\---:::---

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: You guys likely won’t believe it since this WIP has gotten so long and completely out of hand, but when I was conceiving this story, this charms presentation scene was supposed to happen about 70,000 words ago. Smh. In any case, it just took forever to get there because I wanted to rescue Sirius, redeem the Malfoys, introduce other characters and save Malfoy Manor in between. What on earth was I thinking, lol!  
> Also, in the last chapter, I mentioned that there would be flashbacks to their training with Alessandro and planning at Zabini Manor. That’s true. They will still happen; I just didn’t put any in this chapter. This already seemed like the day that just wouldn’t end, so I didn’t want to cram anything else into it, haha. Also, that would have taken even longer to get the chapter out, and I didn’t want to make you guys wait any longer. Thank you all again for sticking with me despite my long absence!!!
> 
>  **Potential spoiler beyond this point. Continue at your own risk.** The other thing I mentioned previously is that I would confirm pregnancy or not, but I haven’t yet. I tried to write it, but it just didn’t make sense to me. In a normal pregnancy, you can’t reliably find out that soon, so I’m making them wait until Yule Break (just a few weeks away in the story timeline) for them to visit a discreet healer to confirm things. On top of everything else they have to deal with during Yule, I’m throwing that and other surprises in as well. Look forward to it. : ) **End spoiler.**
> 
> Thank you all for reading and sticking with me this long. I really do apologize for the long wait. Writer’s block is a horrible, horrible thing. I still don’t have a beta for this story, so if you notice any mistakes, please let me know. I periodically go back and re-read old chapters on the site at random and correct typos and other mistakes, but any help I can get in that regard would be wonderful.


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **A/N: In this chapter we will have a major flashback (identified with italics) from the last few weeks of the boys’ suspension, which I skipped with a necessary time jump. To help with the timeline, the content of the flashback takes place shortly after Remus’ return to Britain. During that time, the boys’ animagus and combat training with Alessandro and Sirius is progressing, and Lucius is working on the plan to infiltrate Malfoy Manor. So, in chapter 22 where Remus, George and Sirius are talking about their part in the plan, quite a while after the flashback in this chapter.**
> 
> **Every thing that’s not in italics in this chapter happens in the present and occurs only a few days after most everything in chapter 22.**
> 
> **If that’s at all confusing let me know in a comment and I’ll try to explain it further. At this point, I don’t want to say more and spoil this chapter.**
> 
> **Also, I'd just like to say thank you to everyone who's comments or left kudos recently. Every email notification keeps me thinking about this fic and wanting to continue, however slowly.**
> 
>  
> 
> **Enjoy!**

Ron strode across the hallway three times across from the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy and waited until the door to the Room of Requirement appeared. 

He pulled the door open and walked in to find Harry, Blaise and Draco splayed out panting on the floor of a large open room with pillars, broken stones and debris everywhere. 

He moved cautiously into the room, “Blimey, do I even want to know what the three of you got up to in here?”

A voice sounded behind him. “I have been putting them through their paces as charged by their guardians to make certain they do not forget all that they have learned.” 

“Aw!” Ron yelled, turning and drawing his wand. 

Amaunet smiled kindly, “Good instincts you have there, young Weasley. Always draw your weapon even when you are uncertain of attack.”

Ron gulped, still reeling from the goddess’ surprise appearance. “Well, you learn to do that when you have five older brothers.” 

“Hm, a lesson these three could have benefitted from,” Ama agreed, walking over to the other three prone bodies. “Do get up now. This is no way to treat a guest.” 

Harry groaned, “This isn’t our home.”

Ama laughed her otherworldly laugh, “True, but you did invite him here did you not?” 

“And Weasley isn’t worth moving for anyway,” Draco grumbled, rolling over onto his back. 

Ron looked around, “Are you restarting the DA, Harry because I don’t think-” 

Harry finally pushed himself up into a sitting position with a helping hand from Blaise. 

“No, Ron. This is just training for Blaise, Draco and I. I told you before that we’d been training while we were suspended. Combat training was a part of that.” 

“To face You-Know-Who?” Ron asked, taking a seat as the room transformed into a more comfortable sitting room.

Blaise nodded, “That and the other battles to come. Harry has already explained to you about the horcruxes. We will likely encounter unknown dangers as we hunt those down, and if the Dark Lord finds out about our mission, it will become even more dangerous. We must be ready for whatever we encounter.” 

Harry strode over and took a seat between Ron and Blaise on a large couch. “This meeting is to see how much or how little you want to be involved in the events to come.” 

“However, before you decide know that the next few years or however long this conflict lasts will become exponentially more dangerous than it already is,” Draco cut in. “Also, we’d need you to swear oaths of secrecy because the safety of our families are on the line and depends upon the discretion of those involved. We can’t compromise on this.” 

Harry nodded. “The Malfoys and others are taking sanctuary under my protection, and I take that very seriously. Before I give anyone any details on their whereabouts or the like I must know that information is safe. It’s not that I don’t trust you Ron, but I will not trifle with their lives. It’s no small thing, the trust they have placed in me.” 

Ron sat silently, thinking deeply. “I understand Harry. During these last few months while you were gone, I’ve reflected on the early parts of term. I can honestly say that life without my best friend isn’t a life I will be happy with. We’ve been friends since first year, and I’d gladly support you in this as you already know. If you need oaths of silence and secrecy first sign me up,” Ron grinned, his ears reddening at the four stares boring into him. 

“Wonderful!” Harry exclaimed, jumping up. “Blaise, please be our caster and witness,” Harry asked. 

“Of course, Harry,” Blaise smiled at Harry’s happiness. He knew how important it was to Harry to have Ron stand with him. 

Once the vows were taken, the room transformed a second time adding in a burning hearth, tables with trays of food and drink and windows showing the night sky. The furniture became more comfortable with several foot stools for the boys and Amaunet to stretch out. It was she who spoke first after the vows were completed. 

“Ronald, know that you are the only person inside of this castle who will be privy to the entirety of our plans. Here you must decide what you will take part in and what you will not.” Her voice always had an unearthly undertone, as if she were speaking right next you and yet from a great distance all at the same time. It was uncanny and made Ron shiver ever so slightly.

Harry nodded, “We won’t force you into any-”

Ron scoffed, “When have you ever had to force me to do dangerous things with you, Harry?” 

“I know,” Harry nodded with a smile. It was nice to have his best friend firmly on his side once again. “But this is different. The things we have planned will be very dangerous, much more so than in the past. Your parents can’t know Ron. No one can, and you’d be hanging with more Slytherins and former Death Eaters than ever.” 

“Your brothers, Bill, Fred and George, would be with you,” Blaise added, “but Harry is right. You would be keeping things from your parents and the rest of your family members, information about the war and about known war criminals, namely Rabastan.” 

“And of course, my parents while not formally charged with any crimes are still deeply under suspicion,” Draco added. 

“I understand,” Ron nodded firmly. “I’m with Harry all the way regardless.” 

Harry exhaled heavily in relief. “Then there’s something you must know. Over Yule break we plan to attack Malfoy Manor where Voldemort is holding up.” 

Ron paled. “What?” he gasped. 

Harry nodded. “It’s time that we delivered a blow to Voldemort instead of waiting for him. Once we expel him from Malfoy Manor he should be weakened for quite some time and with fewer followers. The attacks on the wizarding and muggle worlds should stop for a while. That will give us time to finish out the year and begin horcrux hunting, relatively freely, over the summer.” 

“What about the Headmaster? Is he aware of all of this?” the redhead wanted to know.

Harry grimaced. 

“No, he is not,” Ama answered. “We would greatly appreciate it if it stayed that way.” 

“Dumbledore has different ideas on how we should contend with the Dark Lord,” Blaise spoke up from his seat beside Harry. 

“Blimey, Harry. You really are going rogue,” Ron gaped.

Harry laughed quietly, “You could say that Ron.” 

“And, you’re sure I can’t tell my parents. Ginny and Percy I understand, but mum and dad and Charlie have always supported you, Harry. You know that.” 

“Charlie is in Romania,” Harry answered, “and Bill has said that it would be best to deal with him over the summer when we have time to visit him for an extended period to talk. Now, he’d have no reason to visit Britain without drawing suspicion, and there’s no way to explain this properly in an owl. He’d have us all committed to St. Mungos. As for Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, I don’t trust that they wouldn’t inform the Order,” the Gryffindor admitted. 

“Harry,” Ron objected. “My parents have always loved you. I know-”

Harry shook his head. “I know that they love me Ron and only want to protect me. I think that they would truly be doing what they felt was best by telling Dumbledore and the Order about our plans. They only want to protect me and shield me from the war for as long as possible, but as long as I am number one on Voldemort’s hit list, I can’t run from this and hide behind closed doors. I would just be postponing the inevitable until graduation next year, and in the meantime Voldemort would be strengthening his army while causing more death and destruction.” 

Ron sat quietly to mull this over. He knew his parents, his mother especially, and he knew how she would react to the thought of any of her children—Harry included—preparing for war. It would appall her, and more than that it would frighten her. 

Molly Weasley was not a graceful witch when under the pressure of fear for her children. War wasn’t a place for children she would argue. Yet, that wouldn’t change the fact that psychopaths were hunting Harry and seeking ways to enter the castle even now to torture and kill him. War was upon them whether they wanted to believe it or not, and Harry didn’t have the luxury of turning away from that fact. 

The choice before him now was how far down that dark path was Ron will walk with Harry. 

At last, he spoke, “So, what’s the plan?” 

\---:::---

 

_Everyone had gathered at Grimmauld Place due to its proximity to Gringotts and the twins’ store. It seemed the logical meeting place for those who had to split their time between the countryside and the city. Everyone that Harry trusted most were gathered as Lucius outlined the plan he’d developed to accomplish Harry’s goal of striking back at Voldemort._

_“Now that the dark Lord knows that we are no longer sympathetic to his cause, he will likely have layered his own wards over our own in an attempt to keep us from the property. What he’ll find out soon enough is that it’s just not possible. No matter who occupies Malfoy Manor, it longs for those of Malfoy blood,” Lucius began to explain to the group, rolling out several scrolls with detailed information about Malfoy Manor. He glanced up and across the table in Grimmauld’s kitchen._

_“I still just don’t understand,” Remus argued, shaking his head. This was the first the man was hearing of this plan, and he honestly couldn’t believe his ears, the more it was explained to him. “You all want to attack Malfoy Manor, where we know Voldemort to be lying in wait with an untold number of Death Eaters at his side? Harry, this was your idea? Truly?”_

_“Yes, Moony,” Harry nodded. “It’s a good idea.”_

_Sirius sat back in his chair and crossed his arms, interrupting before Remus could question Harry further. They could discuss this with Remus later. Right now, they needed to focus on the matter at hand. “How exactly will the rest of us enter the manor. We aren’t members of the Malfoy family as you’re well aware. Moreover, even if you can get us in, I highly doubt we’ll go undetected for long…if at all. Sounds to me like we’re putting the threshal before the carriage here Malfoy,” he frowned._

_“Exactly, that’s the point that I was coming to,” the older blonde nodded severely. “If you apparate side-along with us, you should pass through the wards safely enough. Unfortunately, that doesn’t apply to alarm spells,” he stated with some hesitation. “At the very least, the Dark Lord may feel a fluctuation in the wards signaling our return. Honestly, that is the best we can hope for.”_

_“So, we will be found out at the very start?” Bill asked with a furrowed brow._

_“That’s very likely,” Lucius nodded grimly. “It is a calculated risk that I’ve factored into the plan, and ultimately it means only that Harry cannot be with the first wave when we apparate onto the grounds in case we are immediately flanked upon arrival. We’ll arrive at a remote area of the grounds and walk up to the Manor. Hopefully, that will give us enough cover to disarm anyone who comes to investigate.”_

_Remus looked around the room at the silent men and women scattered about. There were three known Death Eaters, Lady Zabini, three Hogwarts students, not mention the bonafide Egyptian Goddess sitting on the counter top beside the sink. Just what in Merlin’s name was going on?_

_“Am I the only one that thinks this is insane. How long have you all been thinking of doing this?” The werewolf waved his hand. “This entire plan is predicated upon our ability to enter the Malfoy grounds secretly. How are we to that with alarm wards in place? You do realize this is a problem, correct? What am I missing?”_

_“The werewolf does have a point,” Severus cut in, pushing himself away from the kitchen doorframe and sliding into a seat beside Sirius. Remus looked on warily, waiting for the inevitable sniping between the animagus and the potions master, but it never came. In fact, the two men seemed to lean slightly into the other’s personal space._

_“This day is becoming curiouser and curiouser,” he mumbled to himself, collapsing further into his own wooden chair beside one of the twins._

_Lucius sighed heavily, his shoulders slumping beneath the weight of this dilemma. “Ultimately, we will just have to take the risk of being discovered and stave off attack until the ritual is complete. There is no other way around it unfortunately. If we are exceedingly lucky we will arrive at such a time when the Manor will be fairly empty with only the Dark Lord and about half of his Death Eaters present.”_

_“Just what exactly does this plan entail Harry,” Remus asked quietly on a sigh. He’s been receiving only bits and pieces of an idea that seemed more than slightly harebrained to him._

_“When I gave the Malfoys and Rabastan sanctuary under the Potter name, the Dark Mark was removed after they swore fealty to me. Temporarily mind you,” Harry assured, receiving a gracious nod from Lucius. “In a letter from to Ron, I asked him to do a little research about ancient fealty bonds. In short, he discovered that by entering into such a bond willingly, ones possessions become the property of their master. This extends even to ancestral magic.”_

_“In other words, Harry command the ancient Malfoy magic that would normally only be accessible by myself as Lord Malfoy,” Lucius took over the explanation. “This is why the older, more powerful fealty bonds began to loose favor in the past, being replaced by lesser bonds and contracts. None of the ancient families wanted to relinquish that sort of control. We had no choice when we sought Harry’s help, and once we saw the extent of the power,” here Lucius trailed off and gestured to his bare arm with a shrug._

_How could he not follow someone with such strength and conviction. Nothing had ever been successful in removing the dark mark before this. “After seeing a small example of what could be done, Harry came up with the idea to harness the ancestral magic with Malfoy Manor to expel the Dark Lord, greatly injuring him in the process.”_

_“I still do not understand, Lord Malfoy, why you cannot simply revoke access to the manor now that you are no longer servant to the Dark Lord,” Alessandro chimed in. That one point was never made clear to him._

_Narcissa tugged a stray hair behind her ear, “We simply cannot,” she huffed. “As much as it galls us, we do not have that ability. When Lucius’ father first made his pact with the Dark Lord he tied his fate and that of his entire line’s to the Dark Lord, incorporating the Dark Lord into the manor’s wards in such a way that those with Malfoy blood can’t remove him. It’s a catch-22 because only Malfoy ancestral magic is necessary to remove the Dark Lord from the wards, but no one descendant of Abraxus or their spouses can do it.”_

_“So what is Harry to do that you can’t,” Remus asked again. “This still is not making much sense to me.”_

_“I can to a certain extent control the Malfoy ancestral magic, give it nudges in the right direction so to speak. Although the Dark Lord was integrated into the magic and marked as a lasting ally by Abraxus, my magic—Potter ancestral magic—supersedes Malfoy magic because of the new fealty bond, and I _do not_ see Voldemort as anything other than the snake that he is. The plan we are developing will draw in my magic to bend the Malfoy magic to my will and cast out the Dark Lord.” _

_“Still, it would be dangerous for Harry to channel too much of the Potter and Malfoy magic, so as Harry draws his magic and forges the way, Narcissa, Draco and I will channel the majority of Malfoy magic to follow suit and obey the will of its new master.”_

_“Temporary master,” Harry reminded._

_“Yes, Harry,” Narcissa smiled indulgently in response._

_Severus wore a stormy expression with his arms crossed tightly over his chest, and the room at large was quiet in deep contemplation._

_The attack was planned for Yule break once Hogwarts was closed and the boys would be out of school for some time. At this point, there was much more to work out before, namely which rituals were most appropriate for this task. The eldest Weasley boy would be best suited for figuring that out._

_Beyond that, they needed to ferret out as much information as they could about the happenings at the manor. Without a spy it would be difficult to determine when Voldemort’s stronghold would be most vulnerable. Lucius’ voice brought the potions master out of his musings._

_“At this point, only one thing was important to note. In the event that we are discovered upon arrival and overwhelmed, Harry’s safety is paramount, and I’ll hear no argument about that Harry,” Lucius turned to his fledging lord with a stern expression. “We can’t risk you any more than necessary at these early stages of conflict.”_

_Harry nodded his agreement but turned to address the room. He didn’t want to end the discussion on such a foreboding note. He needed everyone in this room to fully buy into this course of action or they were doomed before they even began._

_“I know there’s much more to figure out in a very short time. And, I understand better than anyone the difficulties and what’s at stake. This will be difficult to time because we no longer have eyes inside of the Manor. We cannot be sure when the Dark Lord will be inside, nor can we confirm the number of Death Eaters present._

_If we do this without the Dark Lord present, we tip our hand without injuring him which could make him more dangerous. If we go during a large meeting, we will be overwhelmed and meet with devastating failure. It is a sharp-bladed edge we will be walking. However, should we succeed we will send a message to Voldemort like none other before. He will come to truly fear me, not only the idea of an unknown foretold ending, but a growing wizard with true power and ingenuity.”_.

\---:::---

“Blimey, Harry,” Ron huffed. “Merlin.”

Amaunet and the boys had finished explaining their plan several minutes ago, and Ron still seemed only be able to manage single word sentences. 

“Are you going to be alright Ronald?” the goddess asked with amusement. 

Ron held up and sighed, working to internalize all of this. “You.” 

Harry couldn’t restrain his laughter then. He really had rendered his best friend speechless. 

Finally, the redhead seemed to pull himself together. “You all developed that entire crazy plan from that letter I sent to you weeks ago while you were suspended?” 

Blaise nodded, “Pretty much. Harry was reading your letter one day and got lost in my home. I now believe it’s because he was concocting another scheme—with your help as usual,” Blaise noted with a roll of his eyes, “to get himself killed before he reaches his majority.” 

“As I recall, there were no complaints from you when you finally found me,” Harry remarked with a raised eyebrow. 

“Stop right there,” Draco groaned. “None of us want to hear about your sexual exploits at Zabini Manor.” 

“Do not be bitter my friend,” Blaise grinned. “Jealousy never suited you.”

“Whatever,” Draco rolled eyes. 

“Perhaps we should return to the matter at hand boys?” Amaunet called out, steering the conversation back to more important things. 

Ron leaned forward with his elbows on his knees, “I think you’re missing one thing Harry.”

“What’s that Ron?” 

“The Potter ancestral magic,” he answered with a furrowed brow. “Your magic alone won’t be enough to stir Malfoy’s ancestral magic. We all know that the seat of most ancestral magic is in the ancestral home where its accumulated from generations upon generations of family members have been reared and grown there. First of all, that’s not something you can simply pick up and move from one location to another.” 

“That’s true,” Draco frowned. “It’s one of the reasons we don’t want the Dark Lord to fester in our home to taint our ancestral magic, and it’s why can’t move and call another home our manor. It would be starting over from scratch and forsaking the legacy of my ancestors.” 

Ron nodded. “What I mean to point out is that you won’t be able to make Malfoy’s stubborn magic-”

“Hey!” 

The redhead shrugged, “You know you’re hardheaded Malfoy and the very nature of ancestral magic is stubborn to put it lightly, so come off it.” 

“Don’t talk about ancestry like-”

“Draco,” Blaise interrupted, “you know he is not attacking your family. Try not to find insult where there is none. We need to work together from here on out. You know this. Ron, stop being obnoxious on purpose.” 

Ron only shrugged again. It was in his nature to quarrel with Draco no matter what side he was on. He’d likely never stop niggling the blonde entirely. 

“Anyway, what I mean to say is that you’ll need the full force Potter magic for your ritual which you can’t just pick up from your ancestral home and carry over to Malfoy Manor with you. Also, where is the seat of your magic? You need large grounds and a huge home to house generations of magic safely. 

Harry nodded, “Yes, I know. Blaise explained this to me before. My old home in Godric’s Hollow would have been much too small.” 

Ron nodded, “That’s why there’s not much of a magical store at the Burrow, just too small.”

“And ramshackle,” Draco muttered still perturbed by Ron’s earlier comments. Ron chose to ignore him. 

“We did think of this,” Blaise cut in, scooting closer to Harry and drawing him into his side. It seemed that they would be spending a bit more time here tonight and he wanted to take advantage of the time he had with Harry nearby. 

“Your brother Bill is working on discovering a ritual to help us channel ancient Potter magic remotely. If we could enter the Pit of Negation using only a mirror and ten wizards we can do this. Especially, since Harry’s ancestral magic will want to cooperate with him. He’s the last living descendent capable doing, so and it will want to help him if only to see him succeed in his dealings so that he one day lives to procreate and perpetuate the growth of the Potter magical line.” 

“You act as though the magic is sentient,” Ron stated with a confused expression. 

“In a way it is,” Amaunet nodded. “Magic is a force that breaths life into everything around it even the muggles you all misunderstand and seem to loathe in this era,” she said, still confused and concerned about the separation there. In her time in the ancient Egyptian kingdom, magic users and non lived together at peace. Magic was a gift from her brethren, so that their disciples could better commune with them. 

“It may not stand up to speak with you, but when enough of it is gathered it does have a will of its own. Magic is a gift from the gods, and at its core it has the characteristics of the deity that bestowed it. When large amounts of it gather those characteristics emerge which is why some magic when too much is conjured can be volatile and dangerous because it likely came from one my ornerier brothers or sisters. But, this is a story for another time.”

The boys looked upon the goddess in awe as she bestowed yet another piece of unbelievable knowledge on them. Times like these—when Ama would offer a passing comment about her observations of the present versus what she’d known in ancient times—rocked the foundation of everything they knew about magic. 

Even the adults were often shocked by her. No matter how great their magical historians were—Professor Binns excluded—their memories just weren’t as long or perfect as Ama’s.

Blaise cleared his throat, “Um right. Like I was explaining. Bill is working on a way for Harry to channel his magic.” 

“Where is Potter Manor, Harry?” Ron asked, shaking himself. 

Harry shrugged. “I couldn’t tell you. You know as well as I that no one has ever mentioned it to me. I’ve only heard of tell of the cottage at Godric Hollow, but Siri has assured me that it must exist. My parents and grandparents loved the cottage, so they spent majority of their time there instead of at the larger manor home. Much in the same way that the Black family lived primarily in Grimmauld Place for several generations.” 

“Information about the Potter holdings should be stored in the Potter vault at Gringotts,” Draco surmised. “However, the goblins likely won’t give you that information since you don’t have legal access to the Potter holdings.” 

“Right,” Harry sighed, leaning back into Blaise’s side. “I only have access to my trust vault and there wasn’t any information like that there. After our last trip to Gringotts, I can’t imagine the goblins would be obliged to bend the rules a second time.” 

Blaise grimaced. “You are probably right.”

Ron grinned, “I had nothing to do with that brilliant idea.” 

Harry rolled his eyes, “Yes, yes Ron. We know, but I’m sure you would have been onboard. Don’t even try to deny it.” 

“Still feels good to say that I _might_ have been the voice of reason had you consulted me.” 

“Yeah right! No one is buying that rot, Weasley,” Draco laughed out loud. 

Calming down he continued, “In any case, Sirius, Remus and my godfather are checking various leads and we’ve been charged with our own research to help figure out where Potter Manor is hiding. 

“If the wards are anything like those on Zabini Manor,” Blaise spoke, running his fingers through Harry’s flyaway hair absently, “it will be neigh on impossible to locate without some sort of lead.” With that last comment, each of them fell deeply into their own thoughts. 

“Boys, it’s getting late now. You should head to bed I believe,” Ama stood and stretched after a time. “You worked hard tonight and need to rest. Ronald, I expect to see you in our future training sessions. You have much to catch up on,” she eyed him sternly. 

Ron gulped and nodded, watching her shrink down into a small kitten. “She’s a might scary, that one,” Ron commented as he watched the kitten find a comfortable position on Blaise’s lap, nestled against Harry’s thigh.

Harry smiled down at her lovingly, “She can be,” he admitted, but he loved her anyway.

\---:::---

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **So, I’ve been sitting on this chapter for weeks and weeks (probably longer) because I couldn’t finish this chapter. I couldn’t get the ending to work, so instead of making you all wait even longer (if you’re still following this story) I decided to cut the end and try to incorporate those points elsewhere later in the story. I'm still not sure if I'm 100% satisfied with this chapter, so there may be some revisions to this chapter in the coming days. But, for now, I needed to post something to stay motivated. Anyway, thanks again for hanging in there with me everyone. I hope you enjoyed it.**


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Hi Everyone! I know it’s been a couple of months since my last update. It’s pretty sad, but I’m sure that those of you still hanging with me are getting pretty used to that. In any case, I have been working on this and thinking about it. Your prompting comments and kudos are always helpful to get back to the keyboard, so thank you all for that.
> 
> In a comment on the last chapter, _History_ requested a summary of the previous chapter. Given the time between updates, I don’t think that’s too much to ask. So here you go. It’s not super great or overly detailed, but hopefully it’ll jog your memory a little bit.
> 
>  _Previously in 20 Feet (lol)…_  
>  Harry has another lesson with Dumbledore that the Headmaster feels will help him locate the missing horcruxes when it’s time. However, Harry grows impatient with this process and requests, once again, combat training. And, in his frustration, he even reveals a little of what he’s learned about horcruxes from Amaunet. Of course, this greatly alarms Dumbledore (chapter 22).
> 
>  
> 
> _Later on, Ron takes vows of secrecy and fully joins Harry’s team, learning about the up-coming attack on Malfoy Manor. While Harry, Blaise, Draco (now Ron too) continue training with Amaunet, the others are preparing things for the attack on Malfoy Manor. In addition to training, the boys are charged with searching for clues about the location of Potter Manor._
> 
>  
> 
> There’s quite a bit more that goes on in chapters 22 and 23, little details and such, but these are the more salient/important notes. So, please go back and re-read those chapters if you’re confused and wish to do so. Or, ask me questions in the comments.
> 
> Lastly, in this chapter, we have a time jump of a couple of weeks. It’s now the last week in November. I’m not 100% sure about the timing of Yule in canon, but in the story Yule break begins the third week in December, December 16th to be exact since Yule/Winter Solstice is on December 21st this year. You may have realized by now, but I’m playing a little fast and loose with the timeline. Bear with me. If there’s confusion or a glaring hole somewhere do let me know and I’ll revise and make it right.
> 
> Now, if you’re all good, then please enjoy chapter 24! I really like this one and hope you will too. :)

**Chapter 24**

Dumbledore sat behind his desk with his fingers steepled. They drummed together as he pondered a great problem. Harry Potter. The boy had always weighed heavy on his thoughts, but he had never found him so troublesome as now. Nor, had he ever been more at a loss for what to do.

Weeks after his last training session with Harry, the Headmaster hasn’t called the boy in to continue with Voldemort’s memories. Although there is more to go through, Dumbledore is hesitant to allow Harry to enter into the mind of the Dark Lord too much more. It seemed to him that Harry needed no more negative, dark influences in his life at this moment. 

Dumbledore walked a precarious edge because he needed the boy. The prophecy foretold that Harry would vanquish the Dark Lord, but Harry’s fascination with dark spells and rituals, regardless of intent told him everything he needed to know about the boy and his new companions. 

“Something must be done,” he said to himself again. Steps must be taken to ensure that Harry returns to the light and is removed from the company of those who would taint him. Or, should the worst happen, and that proves to be impossible then Harry must be taken care of as well…but only after he’s destroyed Voldemort. 

Dumbledore wore a grim expression as this realization was the worst he could have possibly reached, and it troubled him deeply. At one point, in the boy’s childhood and even today still, the Headmaster had held some honest regard for Harry’s future happiness and wellbeing. 

However, Dumbledore felt that he had sacrificed and served the light the entirety of his life, and at its end he wouldn’t pass on from this world only to see the young man he raised become the new Dark Lord. 

The primary issue he faced now was that no matter how strong-willed and resolute he remained, his body was soon to expire. He would likely not live to see the destruction of the current evil, let alone anything Harry might become. He was in no position to stop it, but he knew of some who would do anything to save Harry, individuals who were capable and could do this work in his stead after his death. 

Having made his decision, Dumbledore summoned quill and parchment and began to pen several hasty notes. The first had not far to go. In fact, its recipient was likely studying in the castle this very afternoon. The other letters had a bit further to travel, but he was sure that he would receive an answer forthwith.

\---:::---

Days later, levels below Dumbledore’s personal sleeping quarters, Harry stretched and glanced over at the sleeping boy beside him. Blaise was slumped over a pile of books—historical anthologies and family histories mostly.

They were looking for any mention of Potter Manor in the older books in the library. So far, they had come across some interesting tidbits and notes that suggested that the Potter line might have originated further east than they originally thought, likely Germany. 

However, it wasn’t really helpful in figuring out where in England the Potter Manor was hiding. What they needed now was irrefutable proof that Potter Manor was located in England to begin with. The Black Manor they know is in Hesse, Germany; it wasn’t that huge of a leap to assume that Potter Manor was located outside of the United Kingdom as well. 

Still, Sirius felt adamant—despite never stepping foot in the place—that the manor must be on the island. 

_I’d know if it wasn’t, Harry. Trust me on this_ , his godfather had assured. Then he’d mumbled quietly as if no one could hear him, “ _We’ll, I’d know if it was Germany at least _.”__

__Harry shook his head. He couldn’t imagine why his father had never mentioned it to his best friends in all those years, but if he’d spent all of his time at Godric’s Hollow, maybe it just hadn’t crossed his mind. Still, very curious it all was. Harry had meant to ask about that, the desire for secrecy when it came to the manor homes, but he’d not gotten around to asking._ _

__“Blaise,” Harry nudged his boyfriend, waking him quietly. They were in the library after all, and students were studying at tables nearby. The last thing they needed was for Madame Pince to kick them out for the week. They were running out of time before Yule Break, only about three weeks like until the third week in December._ _

__Blaise groaned and swiped at his eyes. He looked around and promptly groaned again, dropping his head onto a folded arm._ _

__“Harry,” he mumbled into his sleeve. “We have been at this all morning and nothing has really been helpful.”_ _

__Harry grimaced and looked at the towering piles of discarded books and scrolls that surrounded them. They had been searching and combing through dusty tomes all morning and much of the day for the last several days. They had found out some things, but much of it wasn’t very useful if Sirius was correct about Potter Manor residing somewhere in England and not on the Continent._ _

__Harry heaved a large sigh and leaned back in his chair. “We can’t simply give up on this Blaise. Too much is riding on this knowledge. Everyone else is doing their part, and it will all be for nothing if we can do this.”_ _

__Blaise finally looked at Harry, sitting up straight in his chair and giving him his full attention. “I know that Harry,” he said, reaching for his hand. “And, we will find it. Perhaps just not this day.”_ _

__Harry frowned, but Blaise interrupted him before he could speak, “There is still tonight. Plus, it is Saturday, so we have all night to stay awake without paying heavily for it in the morning. If we still come up with nothing, we will need to widen our search beyond the castle. The Potter name is well known and has been rooted in the magical aristocracy well before your birth and that of your father. Tell of Potter Manor is somewhere. Have faith, my darling.”_ _

__Harry squeezed Blaise’s hand and finally graced him with a tiny smile. “You’re right, and I am fried right now. Let’s take what we haven’t read already and check it out. Then let’s go have some fun, hm?”_ _

__“I have the perfect idea,” the Slytherin grinned crookedly._ _

____

\---:::---

Leaving the library, both with heavily laden arms, Harry asked Blaise what he had in mind for the afternoon.

Blaise smiled, “First we must round up a few more participants, and then I will tell you. It depends on who is available and if they want to participate.” 

“Okay, now you’ve snagged my interest,” Harry commented as they reached the moving staircases, making their way towards Gryffindor Tower. It had been decided that they would leave all of their research materials in the Tower as it might seem suspicious to have such material in Slytherin’s dormitory. In any case, Blaise spent more than ample time in the Tower, thanks to the invisibility cloak so it mattered little where they stored information. It was easily accessible. 

Besides, at the moment, according to the Marauder’s map, two of the people he was looking for were in the Tower. Since it was early on Saturday morning, Blaise didn’t need to hide to enter the common room. Sure some people were still annoyed anytime he came in, but he was such a common presence these days that no one questioned him or Harry anymore. 

And, theoretically students of other houses were allowed in the common areas of the houses. It just rarely happened due to house rivalries. 

“Ron,” Blaise called upon entering, stowing Harry’s map in his pack. “Are you busy at the moment?” 

The redhead was quiet for one second, “Bishop to queen, checkmate.” He turned with a triumphant grin, “Not anymore.” 

Neville groaned as his king dramatically broke to pieces despite not actually being hit. 

“Hi Neville,” Harry greeted with a conciliatory smile. He’d been roped into mostly one-sided games with Ron more than anyone else over the years. 

“Want a game Zabini,” Ron asked, waving his wand over the chess board and watching the pieces right themselves and obediently troop back to their starting positions. 

“Yes, actually,” Blaise grinned, “but not chess this time. I have in mind a bout of three-on-three quidditch.” 

Ron’s excited expression grew, but it couldn’t outshine Harry’s. The Gryffindor seeker hadn’t been on a broom in what felt like forever. At times, he really wished that he’d joined the team this year for a break from the intrigue and planning that seems to have taken over his sixth year. 

Ron agreed with jerky nods. “When?”

“And, who’s going to make up the teams,” Harry asked, pulling up a chair with Ron and Neville. 

“I think a little house rivalry might be in order for us,” Blaise answered, “We may be friends now, but Slytherin House still has a bone to pick you.”

“All those losses to Gryffindor still smart do they?” Harry smirked. 

Blaise snorted. “We’ll see whose arse will be smarting this afternoon.”

“What’d ya say, Nev,” Harry asked, turning to him. “We’ll need a keeper and you’re as steady as anyone in our year. You really should have joined the team this year.” 

Neville smiled, “Quidditch isn’t really my thing Harry, but I’m up for a round or two today. It’s nice out.”

“Ace!” Ron jumped up. “We’ll need someone to call the game. I’ll see if Luna’s up for it. We’re supposed to study later this afternoon, but she might not mind postponing it a few hours.” 

Harry nodded. “Alright, I’ll stow this stuff while you go get Luna and then we can meet up at Hooch’s office,” he grabbed the bags of books from Blaise and headed to his dorm room.

“I will go find Draco,” Blaise nodded, turning to the common room exit with Ron. As his boyfriend left the Gryffindor common room, Neville helped Harry walk the bags of books and scrolls up to the boys’ dormitory.

\---:::---

Harry, Ron, Luna and Neville met Blaise, Draco and surprisingly Daphne Greengrass outside of Madame Hooch’s office.

“Hooch says the pitch isn’t in use right now, so we can use it as long as we return the quaffle,” Harry smiled, pleased, lifting on his toes to kiss Blaise quickly on the lips. “Let’s do it.” 

“I’ve never seen you play before,” Ron commented, looking Daphne over appraisingly as they all walked out to the pitch together. 

Luna was looking up at the sky with a placid expression on her face, holding onto Ron’s hand. “The absence of evidence is not evidence of absence,” she spoke quietly, turning her serene smile from the sky to Ron. 

Ron’s cheeks pinked as they always did when she smiled at him like that, “What?” Ron had grown used to questioning Hermione when she said something he didn’t readily understand in the past, so he wasn’t afraid to ask for clarification from Luna. He was just lucky now that the answers from Luna weren’t nearly so scathing nor as condescending as before. 

“What she means,” Daphne spoke up before Luna could answer, “is don’t underestimate me just because I didn’t choose to fly with the Slytherin quidditch team. If you do, the arse-whipping we’re about the dole out will sting that much more,” she said, flipping her ponytail behind her back and turning to march toward her end of the pitch to protect the Slytherin goal. 

Draco grinned like a shark from where he stood beside Blaise, “You heard her Weasley. Get ready to lose.” 

Ron grit his teeth. No matter how things had changed in the last few months, he couldn’t stand to lose to a Slytherin. “In your dreams, Malfoy. We’ll put you on your arse just like we’ve done since first year.” 

“You didn’t even play during first year,” Draco sniped getting riled. 

“Neither did you, so what’s your point? Gryffindor still almost took the cup that year,” Ron shot back. “Harry!” Ron turned to the shorter boy before Draco could respond. “You better not go easy on them just because you’re dating Zabini.” 

Harry grinned and straddled his broom, “I wouldn’t dream of it Ron,” Harry eyed Blaise, feeling his magic begin to pick up and channel into the broom. The feeling was almost like a homecoming. He wasn’t playing on the Gryffindor team again this year, and the last time he’d been on a broom was that one time at Zabini Manor. It felt like ages ago. 

“I’m looking forward to flying circles around these two,” he grinned at them one last time before laughing jubilantly. He kicked off the ground and cork-screwed up into the air.

Ron grinned as he watched Harry’s ascent. It was going to be magnificent to fly with him again. Ignoring the others as they kicked off and began to do warm-up laps around the pitch—passing the quaffle back and forth—Ron turned to his girlfriend. 

“Are you alright to call the game, Luna?” 

“Certainly,” she replied in that dreamy way of hers. “Hooch gave me some pointers on rules, and I have eyes all around this pitch. I’ll not miss a thing,” she said turning away from him slightly, undoubtedly seeing something that he could not. 

Ron smiled, “Good.” He leaned forward and pecked her quickly on the lips before quickly kicking off himself, intercepting the quaffle that Blaise had thrown just over his head to Draco. 

He whopped loudly as the ball slid snuggly into the pocket of space between his arm and torso and flew directly towards Harry. From every angle it appeared as if they would crash until, Harry dramatically dropped three feet and caught the quaffle that was suddenly falling from Ron’s arm. 

It was obviously a well-practiced, coordinated move, that took Blaise slightly by surprise. Harry was an expert flyer with keen instincts. There was no denying that, but the Slytherins were both a little taken aback because Harry was a seeker, a position played alone, not in concert with other team members. 

“Looks like we’ll need to stay on our toes if we want to win this one,” Blaise called to Draco as the blonde flew in closer. 

“I never thought otherwise, but I have no intention to lose,” Draco responded with a sniff before flying away to move into position. He took his place only seconds before Luna blew a whistle and called the other chasers to the center. 

The four chasers lined up across from each other as Luna held out the quaffle. She cast sonorous on herself and projected her voice so that the keepers across the field could hear her. 

“The rules are simple. Keep it clean and score as many points as possible in the thirty minutes allotted. As this match is three-on-three, there are no beaters and there is no seeker. The two teams of chasers will attempt to score and defend while the keepers protect the uppermost goal. The two goals to the left and right of the center post do not count. 

If there is any attempt at cheating, the flitterbys will let me know should I miss the action myself. Any unsavory behavior from either team will result in a two-point penalty and the one found to be at fault will sit out leaving his teammate to fend for himself for the duration of one-and-a-half minutes. Any questions?”

Luna was met with only silence and eager grins, so she blew her whistle twice and threw the quaffle into the air, starting the game.

\---:::---

When Hermione last spoke to Ron it was a fight that she wouldn’t forget, just after Harry’s suspension. At that point she knew next to nothing about the doings of Ronald Weasley and Harry Potter. Not more than any other Hogwarts student at any rate.

So, it was passing strange for her to read the note from Headmaster Dumbledore a few days ago, requesting a meeting with her to discuss Harry and Ronald. Although she went, she had nothing to report, and it was odd that he would ask. Surely, the Headmaster was still in the confidence of Harry. _Surely_ , Harry hadn’t begun keeping secrets from Dumbledore.

She just didn’t know, and now it was a puzzle. Before, she held only resentment and a very small amount of pity for her former friends. Now, she wanted to learn more than anything what they were up to. If they were keeping secrets from the Headmaster, then surely they were up to no good. And, she’d run with them for enough years to know that it was probably true, especially if they were accepting the counsel of Slytherins now. 

However, beyond all of that, a very small part of her still cared about whether they lived or died, and there was no way that Zabini and Malfoy weren’t up to no good and were manipulating Harry and now Ron. For the past few months, Hermione forced herself to put them both out of mind as much as possible since they wouldn’t listen to reason. However, with this new request from Dumbledore— _“See what you might find. Anything he seeks to keep hidden will be useful information to me and the Order”_ —her interest was piqued. 

As it were, as soon as she saw Harry and Neville leave the common room to follow Ron and Blaise out for a quidditch match, she stowed her textbook and climbed up the stairs to the boys’ dormitory. She didn’t imagine that she’s be able to sneak in now, but she did know a nifty little charm that would hold the door very slightly ajar the next time it was opened. She need only wait until one of the sixth year boys’ entered or exited the room and the door would remain very slightly ajar and most importantly…unlocked. 

She also laid a silent alarm spell so that she’d know the next time the door opened and could disillusion herself and sneak in. Too bad she no longer had access to Harry’s invisibility cloak because that was more foolproof, but she’d make do. 

“In comparison to some of the other stuff I’ve gotten up to with them, this is nothing,” she murmured to herself, continuing to quietly ascend the stairs. It wouldn’t do to get caught this close to the prize. 

Scant minutes later, the spells were cast and she descended the stairs otherwise unseen. Luckily, since it was the weekend most students were elsewhere this afternoon, hanging out with friends. 

She reclaimed her seat and her book with a pleased expression.

\---:::---

The game was brilliant. Harry was exuberant and felt exhilarated as he flew. He didn’t care who won the most rounds in the end. After a time, they’d simply let the score run up until it became dark and everyone was panting and laughing.

“That last save was great,” Ron slapped Daphne on the shoulder, forgetting himself and jostling her. 

She merely looked smug as she stumbled, “I told you. Mind that you don’t push me over though.” 

Luna sidled up to him, “Let’s get dinner with the ibex, yes?” 

“I could certainly eat,” Neville agreed cheerfully. 

According murmurs joined but Blaise yawned. 

“Still tired,” Harry asked, grasping the Slytherin’s hand. He squeezed his hand gently as he watched Blaise smile and nod his head. Blaise has been so helpful and always by Harry’s side even when the others left to rest. Harry’s search for his Manor home, his family legacy, had begun to mean more to him than just seeking added power for the attack on Malfoy Manor. 

It was a part of himself that he’d been cut off from for one reason or another, and he wanted to reclaim it and learn about that part of himself. To reach out and grasp something of himself that was only his for the taking. Through it all, Blaise had stood by him, putting in late nights and early mornings. 

“Why don’t you go up to rest and I bring you something up from dinner,” Harry suggested kindly. There was no point in forcing Blaise to join them when he could just eat later. 

“Up huh,” Draco commented quietly for only Harry and Blaise to hear as the others walked ahead of them, “not coming back to the dorm tonight Blaise?” 

Zabini shook his head with a smile, “Not tonight, no.”

“Or the rest of this week,” Harry winked, “if I have my way.” 

“I do not see any reason why you should not have your way,” Blaise responded, tugging Harry to a stop for a brief heated kiss.

Draco merely rolled his eyes and strode on to catch up with the others. Harry and Blaise trailed behind the rest and stowed their brooms last. They all walked together until they reached the Entrance Hall where Blaise went his separate way and donned the invisibility cloak in a secluded alcove. 

He stood and listened for a moment to the excited murmurings of his friends as they recounted the best moments of the match. Once their voices faded and blended with the noise of the other students heading in for dinner, he finally turned and headed up the stairs to Gryffindor Tower at a leisurely pace.

The match was fun, and he was glad that he’s suggested it. But, now he was bone tired. He drug his feet through the wide halls and barely cared to avoid the other students heading in the opposite direction. 

Most everyone was heading to dinner, so that was actually helpful in two ways. He could enter the Tower as someone else left without worrying about the portrait opening to an invisible person. That would have obviously been suspicious. Secondly, it would be blissfully quiet for at least an hour or two, so that he could sleep in peace. 

Upon entering the common room, he wasn’t particularly surprised to see Granger sitting with a book in the corner. Aside from a couple of first-year girls, waiting impatiently for a friend, she was alone in the large room. It was a little sad as this wasn’t an uncommon occurrence for her anymore. 

Either way, Blaise paid her little attention and just made sure to remain silent on his way up the stairs to the boys’ sixth year dormitory. He entered it and climbed into Harry’s bed with a blissful sigh, rubbing his face along the soft pillows and barely remembering to close and lock the curtains behind him. 

He felt as though he’d scarcely closed his eyes a second before a female voice woke him. 

“Hm, strange. No one seems to be here. Maybe one of the boys left and I didn’t notice?” 

Blaise’s heart caught in his through as he worried that he’d entered the girl’s dormitory by accident in an uncharacteristic bout of exhausted delirium. 

Still his brows creased as he took in his surroundings in the bed. This was most certainly his love’s bed, and the voice had said very clearly ‘ _maybe one of the boys left the door open._ ’ 

Blaise clutched his wand and wished that he could peer through the curtains, but he dared not speak a word as the girl clearly thought that she was alone. He couldn’t utter a spell without giving up the game. His eyes darted around the confines of the bed searching out the Marauder’s Map as that would answer his question, but she might here the parchment rustling.

It didn’t matter in the end though, as he recalled stowing it with the invisibility cloak outside the curtains before crawling into bed. 

“Well that makes things easier, and I can remove this charm. It always makes my skin tingle. So much better,” the girl sighed. 

Blaise imagined a shiver running over her skin as what was mostly likely a disillusionment charm ended. 

“I really do miss the days when Harry let me use his cloak,” the girl continued to whisper to herself. At that point, it was easy to determine who exactly had furtively entered the dormitory. Hermione Granger. The question was, what the bloody hell did she want. 

She’d not bothered Harry, or Ron for that matter, in months. 

He could hear her steps and she was right beside the bed. Blaise felt tense and he clutched his wand tighter. He wasn’t afraid of her, but if she found him it’d much harder for him and Harry to share a bed while at the castle. The rules in the castle had already tightened significantly after the attack on Hogsmeade. 

Blaise lost his train of thought when she tried to open the bed curtains but couldn’t. She released a frustrated huff and dropped the fabric before walking to the other side of the bed. 

“What’s all this,” she said to herself, clearly rifling through Harry and Blaise’s bags, digging out their notes and borrowed books. “Genealogies? Lordships Through History? Since when has Harry ever been interested in lordships and genealogical studies? I could hardly keep him and Ron awake during Binns’ class.” 

Blaise could hear the disbelief and slight irritation running through her voice, but he couldn’t focus on that. It sounded as if she was packing up the materials, and he was deciding whether or not it would be a good idea to obliviate her as she left or not. 

Harry wouldn’t be pleased with him, but his instinct to protect Harry from whatever she was planning or hoping to accomplish was strong. Still, he remembered his conversation with his mother and steeled himself against the impulse. 

It wasn’t his place to protect Harry from everything…even if he wanted to. Whoever sent the girl would notice if her memories were taken and she didn’t remember her time here. Blaise wasn’t so confident in his ability to alter memories which would be the better option versus removing them entirely. 

“This makes no sense,” he heard her huff out a final time as she attempted to put everything back as it was. 

Blaise turned to face her voice as she took two steps closer to the bed, obviously about to try the bed curtains again. 

“And, what is he hiding in here,” she wondered aloud. He watched the shadows of her feet on the floor and held his breath. He lifted his wand and prepared himself to obliviate her should she unlock the curtains. At that point, as he saw it, he’d have no choice. 

Luckily, he didn’t need to go that far, as Hermione gave a screech and jumped backwards just as he heard a loud bird screech and wings flapping through the air. 

“Hedwig,” she hissed, likely trying to quiet the bird that was starting to cause quite the ruckus. The owl must have been napping in her open cage, relaxing in the cool air sifting through the cracks in Harry’s window. 

It seemed that both she and Blaise had the same idea about how to spend a late Saturday evening.

The owl was screeching and threatening the girl relentlessly. Hermione didn’t speak again, but obviously felt that she’d overstayed her welcome. 

Blaise sat stock still with his heart pounding for several more seconds until her heard the door snick shut. Even then he didn’t release the spell on the curtains or drop his wand for several minutes more. 

When he finally felt his shoulders relax, he opened the curtains to poke his head out and thank Hedwig. 

“You really are a clever, loyal little bird,” he mused. Then cocked his head, “You might have woken up sooner though,” he grumbled at her. 

She only eyed him silently with her large luminous eyes as if to say that she’d woken precisely when she needed to and not a second too early or too late. Thank you very much. 

Blaise collapsed back onto the pillows behind him, not feeling nearly as comfortable as he had twenty minutes ago. 

“That was passing strange, and Harry is not going to like it one bit,” he commented to himself as he stared up at the ceiling.

\---:::---

Several levels below Gryffindor Tower, Harry watched Hermione enter the Great Hall late and sit at the end of the table, nearest to the exit. He glanced over to Ron, but the boy wasn’t paying attention to anything other than his potato-cream soup. Harry could have laughed. Some things never change.

He glanced back to Hermione. And, some things can’t remain the same, he thought with a rueful sigh. 

“Ron, I’m going to head up now.” Harry turned back to the redhead. 

“Aw-reaty,” came Ron’s garbled reply. 

Harry smiled, “Yeah, Blaise is probably hungry by now if he’s not still sleeping, and you know I could never eat as much as you.” 

The redhead nodded with a shrug, “Zuit yer-sef,” he swallowed and spoke at the same time. Harry never could figure out how he’d become so adept at that. In any case, he shrunk several pieces of meat and few other things that he thought Blaise might like to eat before standing and making his way to the exit. 

On the way out, Harry felt eyes on his back. Since he’d turned eleven it was a common occurrence that he hardly remarked upon anymore. What wasn’t as common were Hermione’s eyes sticking to him. In the weeks following their suspension, Hermione had been especially aloof to Harry and Ron, paying them little to no attention at all. 

To have her searching eyes inspecting him once again was slightly unsettling. He didn’t want her to start new rumors about him. With his research and training, he had little time and patience for new whispers in the corridors. 

Shaking off the stare and the thoughts, Harry hurried up to his dorm room. It was likely the bond pressing on him, but Harry picked up his pace with every step. Walking very briskly through the halls until he reached the Fat Lady’s portrait. 

“You took your time, Harry,” Blaise commented with a yawn, setting down his wand as he watched Harry part the curtains of his bed. 

Harry arched an eyebrow at the books and parchment spread across his bed and Blaise’s tense posture. “What’s with the raised wand, Blaise? You had to know it’d just be me. None of the others would come into my bed.” 

“That, I could not know,” his boyfriend disagreed. “Someone was snooping around in here not an hour ago,” the Slytherin revealed. “Had it not been for Hedwig startling them, they may very well still have been here when you arrived.” 

Harry turned back sharply and looked at Blaise. Hedwig was currently out of sight. She had likely left to hunt, but he hardly took notice of her absence. “What? Searching through my things specifically?”

Blaise nodded. “I believe it was Granger. I do not know what exactly she was searching for because I doubt that she knew what she was searching for. And, she certainly did not know what she found. She was quite surprised to learn of your sudden interest in history. Beyond that she found little and understood less.” 

“Blimey. What the bloody hell?” Harry groaned, running his fingers through his hair in agitation. “I caught her staring at me during dinner today, but I never would have guessed that she had snuck into the boys’ dormitory.” Horror crossed his face, “Did she see you?” 

The Slytherin rolled his eyes and pulled Harry fully onto the bed with him, “Do not be daft my Harry. Of course not and had she seen me, surely she would not have the memory or wherewithal or speak of it.” 

Harry huffed, “You’re making me crush the parchment. Pince will box my ears when she sees this.”

Blaise tightened his grip with a growl, “She would not dare lay a hand on you.” 

Harry merely smiled and rolled his eyes in silence, letting the warmth at Blaise’s protectiveness swell inside him. Blaise was possessive, protective, loyal and thoughtful among many other things. It’s why Harry loved him so. Still he couldn’t let himself be distracted, and apparently Blaise felt the same as he asked. “What should we do about Granger?”

Harry sighed and sat up straight to turn and look at Blaise head on. “Nothing for now. She’s left me largely alone for some time now. I can only imagine that Dumbledore has something to do with this spoken.” 

“I had a similar thought. Right now, she believes that no one knows she’s been here. If we tip her off somehow, the Headmaster will know too. It is better if we have the upper hand. Still, I dislike this Harry.” 

Harry frowned and nodded. He couldn’t agree more. To say that he and the Headmaster did not see eye to eye was an understatement. They were ever at odds lately, and it was only going to get worse if he caught wind of their Yule plans. 

“We must simply watch her and stay on our guard,” Harry decided. “Any information she finds will have to be either deliberately left behind by us to confuse and mislead them or nothing at all. In no way can they find out the truth.”

Blaise grinned and tugged Harry back into his lap. He dipped his head and inhaled Harry’s scent at his neck. “I love it when you speak like that, Harry. So devious.” 

Harry snickered and tilted his head to give Blaise’s questing mouth more room to roam. 

“I thought you were tired Blaise, but here you are reading into the night and then trying to seduce me,” Harry laughed as he was thrown fully onto the bed, knocking several books and parchments off the side by the wall. 

“Is it working,” Blaise asked huskily, running his hands down Harry’s sides, parting his robes and lifting his shirt. His fingers skimmed Harry’s pale skin and he marveled at the contrast their skin tones made. He would never tire of touching Harry’s bare skin. 

“Pince is really going to k-”

Blaise grabbed his wand and waved it quickly through the air. The books and parchment arranged themselves neatly on Harry’s side table. “Enough about that old bag. Remove your trousers Harry.” 

Part of Harry wanted to tease and play coy, but the other part of him was impatient and hungry. It had been a fair few weeks since they’d last done this. First stunned by the possible child growing between them and then overtired and stressed upon their return to school. The tight curfew and overbearing school staff didn’t help matters either. 

With a needy groan, Harry raised his hips. His hands met Blaise’ at his waist and they worked together to remove his trousers and pants. Blaise wasted no time his losing his own clothes and divesting Harry completely of his shirt and school robes. 

“I have missed you, Harry.” 

“Mm,” Harry moaned as Blaise’s cock slid over his silkily. “I-I want-”

“I know what you want, Harry,” Blaise assured him, summoning a small jar of oil Harry kept in his side table drawer now. “I will give it to you.” Before putting his wand away for good this night, Blaise cast two silent spells, one over Harry and the second over the perimeter of the bed, so that Harry could be as loud as he wanted. 

Silence pervaded the room, broken only by Harry’s sharp gasps and lustful panting. Blaise’s fingers had slid home and were stretching and rubbing him in the best way. When he grazed Harry’s prostate and rubbed it relentlessly, Harry’s cock throbbed and loud cries escaped his throat. 

“Yes, Harry,” Blaise encouraged, curling his body over Harry to whisper against his lips. “I want to hear you tonight. Do not hold back Harry. Because I will not.” 

“Blaise, hurry now,” Harry gasped, reaching up to claw at the Slytherin’s shoulders, dragging him down further and grinding his hips and arse into Blaise’s large, scorching hands. 

Blaise slid back slightly, unwilling to move far from Harry’s warmth. He lined up, rubbing the head of his cock tantalizingly slowly over Harry’s clenching hole. He couldn’t look away from the sight. It was nearly enough to make him come prematurely. Yet, Harry’s gasping hands and pleading voice urged him forward, and he slid home slowly without stopping. 

The heat engulfed him and Harry’s cries emblazoned him. 

Harry held on and screamed out his pleasure, begging and then commanding. He set the pace this night, even from the bottom. 

“Shit, Harry,” Blaise groaned, dropping down so that his body covered Harry’s nearly completely. He dipped his head and thrust his nose into Harry’s hair. He swallowed his scent with his open mouth, wanting to consume Harry in every way. Blaise wanted to take him into himself and never release him. 

They could both feel the bond soaring and calming simultaneously within them as they heaved and crashed against each other. On the peripheral of his senses, Harry could feel Blaise’s heavy balls slapping his ass and he was pounded. His own cock and balls were smothered between them. Each surge of their bodies, ground his cock between them and spread his precome across their torsos. 

It was hot and sweaty and perfect. Harry wrapped his legs and arms around Blaise tightly as he could, letting his orgasm crash over him. His words of pleasure gave way to endless white, and he clenched down tightly, savoring the sensation and taking as much as he could. 

Blaise’s teeth ground together so tightly he thought they might crack as Harry’s arse became tighter and hotter around him. He scraped his clenched teeth across Harry’s throat and jack-rabbited into him as hard he could. His release was mere seconds behind his love’s, and as he lost himself to the overwhelming pleasure, he heard that voice that he cherished whisper, I love you. 

The boys collapsed together and scarcely moved an inch for several long minutes. When it became too hot, and Blaise became too heavy. Harry’s limbs seemed to awaken, and he began to twitch and murmur, urging Blaise to the side. 

“I think it gets crazier every time,” Harry panted, still trying to catch his breath. 

“You mean better every time,” Blaise responded just as breathless. Harry hummed in agreement and couldn’t help but smile at the dark ceiling above. 

Blaise turned and flung an arm over Harry. “Let us sleep now. We can deal with the rest tomorrow.” 

Harry agreed silently and let his eyes close. His final thoughts were of how sticky they would be upon waking. He wasn’t looking forward to that, but he didn’t care enough to grab his wand and clean them up .

\---:::---

Hours later, Blaise woke up to a soft glow. It must have been after eleven and the dormitory was quiet, minus a few snores from Harry’s dorm mates. He squinted against the light and looked around.

“Harry, what are you doing?” 

Harry was reading a large book, hunched over the yellowed pages so closely he looked as if he were fully prepared to climb into the book if it wouldn’t give up its secrets. 

“I think I’ve found something Blaise.” 

“What is it?” 

“Essex.” 

Blaise’s brow furrowed in confusion. His thoughts still muddled from sleep and sex. “Essex? Harry what-”

“My family, my manor. I think it may be in Essex,” Harry whispered urgently, whipping his head up with a grin. His hair flopped into his face and flew everywhere. It worse than its usual disarray. Blaise couldn’t help the smug fissure that ran through him as he remembered how it got that way. 

Quickly though, he pushed past those thoughts and sat up. A sheet fell down his waist and he realized Harry must have cleaned and covered them up before he began reading again. 

“What have you found?” He asked, pulling the book across Harry’s lap so that he could see it too. 

“Look here,” Harry pointed out the tiny cursive script that appeared to contain the information they’d been seeking. “It first tells of Potters entering the country around year 1170 and settling in Essex some twenty years later. There’s not much here, no first names or specific locations. I haven’t been able to find anything to corroborate this information in the anthologies, but-” Harry bit his lip and paused, gazing at Blaise’s startling purple-black eyes through his fringe. 

“No, this is good Harry.” Blaise assured him, gently brushing Harry’s hair away from his eyes. “Manor homes are built to last. We do not move them, and typically they are hundreds of years old, supported by the magic from generations of scions raising families there. Their locations are often secret as the manor is often the seat of their Lord’s power. Its location is known only to their closest companions. That’s why it’s been so difficult to find information about yours. It’s a secret your family would have guarded closely.” 

Blaise stopped his rambling. He truly loved magical history and theory, “In any case, if there’s tell of Potters settling in Essex it is quite possible that Potter Manor is still there or some clue at the very least. Once a family settles and begins the process of physically building, warding and then magically strengthening a home, they do not abandon them.” 

Harry grinned with renewed excitement and hope, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. 

“We need to tell the others,” Blaise said, flipping through book, looking for more information although he knew he’d likely find little more than Harry did. 

“I’ll call Kreacher,” Harry nodded in agreement. “I can’t trust this information to even Hedwig, not with Dumbledore sniffing around.”

\---:::---

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: So, I did a little research on the Potter name. Apparently, like many European names it finds its origins in what’s now Germany and likely arrived in England after the Norman Conquest. Please don’t ask me anymore about that because I’m not overly familiar with the details of the Norman Conquest. In any case, the first mention of the name was in Lincolnshire in 1172. However, many more mentions were in Essex after/around 1197. I only really checked one source for this information, so it may not be 100% percent accurate, but for our purposes, it suits just fine. 
> 
> Hope you enjoyed this chapter. See you next time!


	25. Chapter 25

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! Sorry for the long delay between chapters. As usual, this took a lot longer than I’d hoped. Sad to say it, but I’m sure you’re all used to it by now if you’re still hanging around. I really hope that some of you are. :) 
> 
> One thing you should all know, whether you’re a new reader or have been hanging around for a while, this fic is NOT abandoned, and it will not be abandoned. I still love it, and I’m still having a blast writing it. That’s all! Enjoy this new chapter and let me know what you think. Brief re-cap of chapter 24 is below to help jog your memories.
> 
>  _Previously in 20 Feet (lol)…_  
>  Dumbledore seems to have lost all faith in Harry and is worried that he may become a dark wizard in the future. To this end, he’s trying to set some things in place to help stop Harry in the future after he’s gone. At this point, Dumbledore feels that the curse from Tom Riddle’s ring may kill him before he personally sees the end of Voldemort. 
> 
> _In the meantime, the boys – Harry and Blaise in particular – aren’t making much headway in the search for clues about Harry’s manor, but they keep looking, taking a break on Saturday for a quidditch pick up game._  
>     
>  _As one of his steps to watch Harry, the Headmaster enlists Hermione as a spy within the castle which she takes very seriously and sneaks into the Gryffindor boys dormitory. She doesn’t find much that she can make sense of, but learns what she can any way. Little does she know, Blaise is in the room, and notices her._
> 
>   _Once she’s gone and Harry returns from dinner, Blaise tells Harry about Hermione and they worry about what Dumbledore might be up to. Blaise goes to sleep after a while, and in the meantime, Harry finally finds a clue about where Potter Manor might reside._  
>  Alright guys, I think that should be good enough to help jog your memory. Again, enjoy this chapter and let me know what you think! 
> 
> Cheers!  
> -TSS

**Chapter 25**

“You really found it?” Sirius asked, his charred visage grinning out at Harry from Severus’ private floo.

Harry shrugged from his seated position on Severus’ floor. “I’m not sure, but I think it’s worth checking into. We don’t really have much more to go on at this point.” 

The burning head nodded and smoke and soot wafted from the fireplace, making Harry’s eyes and nose burn slightly. The boy shifted a few inches backwards while Sirius continued to ponder the situation and mumble to himself. 

“You’re probably right Harry, and it will be good to see you in person either way, pup. I’ve missed having you around every day.” 

Harry smiled. It was a new and wonderful thing to be missed when he was away at Hogwarts. 

“You’ve been practicing your transformations?” Sirius asked, changing the subject. He’d make plans with Severus on how best to get Harry out of the castle in the next couple of days. For now, he wanted to check on his grandson to see how he was doing. 

“I’ve missed you too Siri, and yes we’ve all been practicing.” Harry pulled off his glasses, and the room became a blur. With a little concentration his eyes shifted, and his eyesight became startling clear, although everything appeared in shades of gray. The world around him was so sharp it nearly gave him a headache every time he transformed. 

“Well done Harry!” Sirius’ voice boomed out at him. Padfoot could never contain his enthusiasm, especially when it came to animagus transformations. 

Harry grinned at the praise. “I can hold it much longer than before, Harry commented. Ron’s been working to catch up with transforming more often, but he’s not trying the smaller transformation on his own. I made him promise, not that it ever takes much to convince Ron to study and practice less.” 

Sirius chuckled, “Good job Harry. I’ll work with Ron if there’s time over Yule break, but he shouldn’t attempt such on his own. It’s dangerous as well you know.” 

Harry nodded, “How is everyone else? Remus? Lucius? Rabast-” 

“Everyone’s perfectly fine Harry, just working on the finer points of your reckless plan. Remus nearly has a heart attack every day, and Lucius has a permanent scowl on his face. He’s starting to resemble Severus more every day. Aside from that, everyone’s fine Harry. No need to worry.”

\---:::---

Sirius watched Harry turn and speak quietly to someone in the room behind him.

“I’ve got to go now Siri it’s almost curfew, but Severus would like to speak with you for a second.” 

“Alright,” he nodded, “I’ll see you soon, pup.” 

Sirius settled into his perch inside of the fireplace, shifting to relieve the pressure on his aching back. In the years they’ve had to advance magically and technologically, they still had not come up with a comfortable way to have extended floo conversations. One person had to remain kneeling, bent over at the waist with his or her entire head in the fireplace, just to maintain the connection and hold a conversation. 

“Sirius,” the deep baritone rippled through him. He became more attracted to Severus every day. But, even that voice couldn’t keep him in place much longer. 

“What do you need Severus? As much as I love to hear your voice, I tire of this position.” 

The potions master nodded sharply, “Very well. I will come through.” 

Sirius arched an eyebrow. They had agreed that everyone would lay low until Yule due to Dumbledore’s growing suspicion and unpredictability. Harry’s news that the Headmaster had ordered a student to follow him around and search through his belongings was not encouraging. 

Now that Severus no longer had Death Eater meetings to disguise his comings and goings from the Castle it was decided that he would remain in the castle so as not to agitate the Headmaster more than necessary. 

“Okay, but we already discussed-”

“I would like to speak with you about an important matter, and I do not want to be cut short due to the infirmity of your back,” he drawled with a sardonic eyebrow raise. 

Sirius grinned, “If there’s anything ailing my backside, I think you know who the culprit is.” 

Severus rolled his eyes and heaved a large put upon sigh, “Back away from the grate you louse before I clout you on my way through,” Severus huffed, reaching out for a pinch of floo powder on the mantle. 

Sirius slid backwards and groaned aloud as he moved to stand. He really wasn’t as limber now as in years past. Next time, he’ll have the young sixteen-year-old kneel inside a fire for an hour. 

He scarcely had time to stretch his back and shake out his legs before he was joined by Severus in Grimmauld. Sirius had been spending much more time there now that everything was clean and polished, brightened to its former glory. 

Despite some of the more traumatic and sad memories, it was still one if his childhood homes. Indeed, it was the one he’d spent the most time in since his mother loved it so. 

He smiled at the taciturn man in the room and reached forward, brushing his lips against potion-stained fingertips. “To what do I owe the pleasure?” 

Severus arched an eyebrow at the teasing but didn’t pull his hand free. “Be serious now Black. I did say that this was a matter of importance, did I not.”

“You did, but you’ve entered into a relationship with the wrong man, if you think that I won’t great you thusly when you enter my home. I’ve missed you these last few weeks.” 

Severus fought the threatening flush and shook his head. It was still ridiculous how they’d ended up this way. He’d despised this man for years, and now he struggles to keep his hands off of him when he does ridiculous things like this. Still, he maintained his composure as usual and eventually removed his hand to pace about the room.

Sirius merely smirked. He knew what the potions master was thinking and could imagine how he was feeling inside. Severus didn’t know what to do with genuine affection and regard, having received so little throughout his life. The man could scarcely believe in Sirius’ intentions and always held a little back from the animagus, while clinging so tightly to him at the same time. It only goaded Sirius more to show the man he was worth more than just what he could do for others. 

More often than not now, those conflicting feelings of yearning and disbelief within Severus would boil over in a rough, passionate, nearly violent coupling. Sirius loved it, but he longed for the day when Severus would let him love him tenderly. Somehow, watching the man pace through his home, he felt that that day wasn’t very far off. Even if it wasn’t this day. 

“As Harry mentioned, the Headmaster is having him followed, primarily by the Granger girl, but I have reason to believe that some of the students in the other houses are watching Harry and the others much more closely than in previous months. It’s disturbing.” 

Sirius’ shoulders slumped and he took a seat on a couch in the room. “Indeed. There’s not much we can do about it though except caution the boys; am I right? What would you suggest?” 

Severus shook his head. “Nothing on that front, but I fear that it’s worse than just this. McGonagall called me into her office not two days with concerns about the Headmaster’s health. She reports that Dumbledore has been behaving erratically, his moods are unstable and he’s become paranoid.” 

Severus stopped before Sirius and watched the man’s lips thin. 

“More than usual in the last few months,” Sirius asked. 

“He fears that Harry will become the next Dark Lord after Voldemort if he doesn’t not intervene. It frightens him, and I cannot say what exactly he will do.” 

Sirius shot up in alarm, “And Minerva has heard him speak this madness?” 

Severus nodded, “She has witnessed his muttering more often since Harry’s return to school. I believe it is the curse he’s under from the destroyed horcrux, Riddle’s ring. It is destroying his body and now his mind begins to wither.” 

Sirius shook his head and ran his fingers through his hair in distress. “It would explain much of his behavior and his recent decisions. Do you think he will harm Harry? We can’t leave him there unaware. Illness or no, Dumbledore is still one of the most powerful wizards of this age.” 

“So is Harry,” Severus countered. 

“Yes, but he has not the experience to go into a battle of wits and conspiracy with a wizard such as Dumbledore, hundreds of years his senior. Forget altogether that he’s descending into madness.” Sirius began to pace as well and turned with frustration and anger marring his face. “I cannot allow him to be hurt again Severus. Harry is my responsibility; he has been since he was one, and I will not fail him again. If he is unsafe at Hogwarts, I will remove him until such a time as it’s safe again.” 

Severus observed the stubborn set to his lover’s jaw and did not doubt him. “They are all our responsibility, Black. We will not fail to protect them and teach them. I assure you. Very soon Dumbledore will be bedridden and some sort of announcement will need to be made to the student body. We do not want to the alarm the community and let the Dark Lord know of this weakness, but we’ll have to do something.” 

“If you believe that he will not be a threat to Harry from his sickbed, then you are losing your edge, my dear,” the animagus said wryly, calming somewhat. 

“Do not take me for a fool,” Severus intoned calmly. “I am neither that naive nor that optimistic. I believe that he has already been reaching out to some of the Order members and his other contacts, having different magical items sent to the castle. What concerns me the most is that he may attempt to bind Harry’s magic if a certain set of conditions are met. That is what we must avoid at all costs.” 

“Dear God. He wouldn’t dare,” Sirius gasped, a wrath such he hadn’t felt since facing that rat-faced traitor fifteen years ago surged within him. 

Severus shook his head, “He needs Harry to vanquish the Dark Lord, but I do believe he may set something in motion that can be triggered later.” 

“How will we know if he’s done anything or made his move? What should we look for, and how soon can we confine him? If we can limit the Headmaster’s movement and access to others, then we’ll have a better chance of protecting Harry.” 

“I am working to discover what I might, and Harry’s Head of House will be invaluable to us. I believe it is time that we worked a bit closer with her. I do not trust her with the knowledge of our plans or the the safety of Harry’s new _friends_ , but if we bring her into our confidence a little it will go a long way towards keeping track of Dumbledore’s movements and plans. He still trusts her the most amongst the Order members and faculty staff.” 

Sirius chewed his thumb nail. “I do not like this Severus. It’s insane that we must make contingency plans like this for a possible attack from Dumbledore. I’m of half a mind to bring Harry home right now. Never would I have imagined that the Headmaster could pose such a threat to my boy.” 

“He is losing his grip on reality Sirius; it is not within his control. It’s the curse and the toll it’s taking on his mind and body. It must be.” 

“Be that as it may, it doesn’t change the fact that he’s a danger to my godson.” Sirius frowned in consternation. 

Severus sighed, “I know. I worry for Harry and my godson as well. Who do you think he blames for this perceived darkness overcoming Harry? All of our children are at risk Sirius. There are only three weeks before the end of the term. The boys will finish out the term; we will move forward with our plan, and then reassess the safety of the school in the new year.”

“They have Amaunet looking out for them, and Harry and Blaise have the added benefit of the bond between them. That will not be easy for even Dumbledore to tamper with, let alone bind completely.” 

Sirius sighed, “You’re right. Of course you’re right,” he hung his head with a hand on his hip. He startled slightly when Severus pulled him into his chest. Despite all of his flirting and the times they’ve been intimate, it was still a very pleasant surprise when the potions master initiated contact himself. 

“We’ll do everything we can to keep them all safe. You know that Sirius. Let’s be cautious and keep moving forward. In the meantime, we can put our own safeguards in place.” 

Sirius nodded. “Okay. But, if something happens to Harry or any of them, I’ll kill him.” 

Severus sighed, “I know.” He had no difficulty believing that Sirius would seek revenge because he’s done it before, and despite his playful nature, Sirius has been through too much to be considered completely emotional stable. Honestly, none of them were, not even the children. War is truly despicable.

“But, it won’t come to that Sirius. Focus on Potter Manor and Malfoy Manor. Going to search for his ancestral home will an exciting and emotional time for Harry. He’s going to need you. Focus on that.”

Sirius stepped back with a nod. 

“Lord Black, Mister Snape will you both be wanting dinner? Kreacher will be having it done soon,” the elf said hopefully from the doorway. It was nice having a member of the Black family as a semi-permanent residence at Grimmauld now, but Kreacher longed to entertain more guests again. 

“Yes, stay the night Severus,” Sirius teased with a waggle of his eyebrows, lightening the mood. 

Severus rolled his eyes but smirked in amusement. “You know I can’t stay the full night, but I will stay for a meal. Thank you,” he nodded to the elf who popped away a second later.

\---:::---

“Are you ready to go?” Blaise whispered, rubbing his thumb over Harry’s hand a few days later. They were in the Slytherin common room. Harry spent about as much time there as Blaise spent in the Gryffindor common room.

Harry looked over at Blaise with a slightly nervous smile, glancing around because they didn’t know who might be listening. He did give him a little nod. He was spending the night in Slytherin dorm because Severus was going to help sneak him out of the castle for the weekend. 

They’d discussed it at length with the professor, so it should be simple. It would be easier to meet up with him if Harry was already in the dungeons. Amaunet was somewhere nearby as well. She spent a lot more time with Harry and the boys, monitoring and watching out for them, given the erratic behavior of the Headmaster. She was sensitive to magic in ways that even their professors weren’t, so it was a spot of great luck to have her around. As a matter of fact, she was going to fill Harry’s shoes so to speak while he was away. 

This was clearly an unsanctioned off-campus visit, and Dumbledore would never agree. Amaunet had an affinity with animals and as such couldn’t transform into humans without magical aid. To solve this, she would drink a strong polyjuice potion to masquerade as Harry and make appearances around the castle. 

It wasn’t a perfect transformation they found out because Ama isn’t really human. As such, she wouldn’t do a lot, merely showing up for meals and walking around the castle with the others every now and again to stay any suspicion. 

“Let’s go to bed,” Harry suggested. There, they could set up privacy wards and speak freely before it was time for him to leave. 

“Hm, sure,” Blaise agreed, pressing his lips to Harry’s hand. “Let me walk you out,” he said aloud. 

They had to make a show of Harry leaving before he could sneak back in under his invisibility cloak. It was one thing to hang out in the common room, but sleeping over together would never pass without comment and objection. It’s against Hogwarts rules, so no one, not even Harry Potter can flaunt that sort of behavior. The castle staff did not condone promiscuity amongst the children although they were aware it was impossible to curb completely.

\---:::---

“Now,” Blaise said, climbing beneath the covers beside Harry minutes later. “Are you ready to go?”

Harry laughed, “Yes and no.” 

“No?” 

“Well, before I was thinking that maybe this could be it, but if it’s not we’d just keep looking, and it would be fine. But…I don’t know. I just want it to be it. Ever since I was a child I’ve been looking for a home, somewhere to belong.” 

“Harry-”

The boy took a shuddering breath and slid under Blaise’s arm. “I know that you’ve all made me feel welcome and I have family now…with you and Sirius and everyone else. It’s just that the Dursley’s never treated me like family, and now I have this chance to find a piece of my own heritage. It just feels different. It’s not that I don’t love your home, and that I don’t feel that at home at Grimmauld. I do.” 

Blaise nodded, “I know you do, but I understand too. It is innate, and you will understand even more if this is it. When you step on that land and feel that ancestral magic welcome you home. It is like nothing you have ever felt Harry, and I want that for you.” 

“Me too,” Harry whispered. “And, I love you Blaise. I don’t want you to think-”

“I know. I love you too. Get some sleep. Snape will be here soon, get some shut eye while you can.” 

Harry nodded and closed his eyes, dreaming of majestic staircases, yawning hallways and huge dusty windows. 

When Blaise shook him awake a short time later with Professor Snape looking in on them from outside the bed curtains, Harry was slightly disoriented as his dream had felt so real. 

“It’s time to go Potter,” Snape’s deep baritone sounded quietly in the room. “Bring your cloak.”

Harry yawned and stretched, pulling on his trousers and sweater. He turned and gave Blaise a small smile and quick peck on the lips. “See you soon.” 

“See you,” Blaise responded, dropping back down onto his stomach. Harry could tell that he’d be back in dreamland minutes after they’d left. 

Pulling on the invisibility cloak, Harry crept out of the curtains into the dark room, flickering candle light was the only thing illuminating the way to the hallway. Harry couldn’t see him, but he knew that his Professor was waiting for him in the shadow of the dormitory door. One day he would finally ask the man how he was able to do that so well, especially considering how pale his skin was.

Harry snorted and shook his head. By all rights, the man should have stood out in a dark room. It had to be a spell or charm of some sort; Harry wouldn’t believe anything else. 

“Tired Harry,” Severus asked in a whisper as they made their way through the silent tunnels in the dungeons. The castle had all sorts of secrets, each House knew of only a few. Slytherin House was no different. There were several secret passageways tunneling through the dungeons that only a Slytherin could navigate. Harry had been spending weeks and months with Blaise, and he still didn’t feel comfortable traveling them alone. Most of them weren’t even on the Marauders’ Map. Like the Room of Requirement, people would just drop off the map if they went too far.

Severus seemed to have no such difficulties or concerns. 

“A little,” Harry finally responded with another jaw-cracking yawn. 

Severus smirked, “Only a little.” 

“Okay, maybe a bit more than a little,” Harry chuckled. “But, I’m also excited about what we might find.” He paused, considering whether or not he should tell the potions master about his dream. 

“While I was sleeping, I had a dream about…well strange though it may seem, I feel like it was a dream about Potter Manor.” 

Severus arched an eyebrow, “A dream about the manor you’ve never set foot in before?” 

Harry shook his head, skirting around a protruding suit of armor. He jumped a little when a metal arm lifted in a salute. Clearing his throat, he continued on. “I’m sort of losing the memory, but the feeling remains. It was amazing. I felt full to the brim with…with…I honestly don’t know, but it was fantastic.” 

Snape hummed thinking on Harry’s dream. “Magic,” he began, “is a powerful and volatile, unknown entity. I’m sure that you know that better than most your age, considering your life up until now, that includes your encounters with the Dark Lord and your recent bonding with Zabini. The more we think we know about it, the further away from the truth I believe we get. That’s not to say we should give up the pursuit of understanding and mastery, but I believe that some things will always remain a mystery and likely should.” 

Harry stared up at his professor with strange eyes, “That…that was surprisingly poetic Severus.”

Severus cleared his throat self-consciously. “Well. In any case, it could very well have been your ancestral magic reaching out to you since you’ve been looking for it. It could and most likely was just your imagination though.” 

Harry rolled his eyes though Severus couldn’t see him. Back to his typical acerbic nature, huh? Harry wasn’t buying it. He was learning quickly just how kind and sensitive his potions professor really could be. 

“As I am a half-blood and have never been to my maternal family’s manor, I cannot say that I have much experience to draw from to help you understand things. Black will be much better at that than me.” 

Harry shrugged. “Well, I imagine I’ll see soon enough.” 

Severus nodded. “That you will. Quiet now, we’re coming up from the dungeons and are nearing the exit now.” 

Harry followed along silently until he could make out the castle gates just over Severus’ right shoulder. He stepped out into the frigid darkness with a sigh of relief. He didn’t think that they would be caught, not with Severus running the operation and using the underground Slytherin tunnels, but it was nice to have gotten this far without at least having to confound anyone. 

Granted, it wasn’t uncommon for students to see Professor Snape skulking around the castle. So, even if they were seen, it most likely wouldn’t have caused a commotion. Indeed, most students who were about this late after curfew would have done anything to avoid the professor, so really there was no danger from the Hogwarts student body. 

A low bark from the darkness had Harry whipping his head to the left and pulling the hood of the invisibility cloak from his head. 

“Seeing your disembodied head, Potter, will always be disturbing. Take that blasted thing off and get moving.”

Harry grinned. “Does it give you the shivers, Severus.” 

“Get going brat before I take points from you for being out after curfew.” 

Harry laughed and removed the cloak fully, stuffing it into his rucksack. “Thanks again Professor. I’ll be back in a couple of days.” 

The lines on Severus’ face softened. “See that you do,” he said softly, laying a warm hand on Harry’s shoulder, gripping it for a second and turning to return to his bed for a few hours of shut eye. 

As Severus made his way back into the castle, Harry shrunk his rucksack and turned to face the gates. Again the quiet bark sounded into the night, followed by a short whine. 

“I’m coming Siri.” He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. He still wasn’t very quick at this, not nearly as fast as McGonagall or Sirius, but he was much faster than most of the Hogwarts students and probably some adults. He learned over the weeks that different people felt the transformation differently although in most cases it was entirely painless. For Harry, the blending of his clothes with his skin was the most peculiar feeling throughout the entire transformation, not the shrinking of his limbs or the spouting of feather. 

Most likely due to his training with Sirius at Zabini Manor, his eyes were always the first to shift. Just before the rest of his senses and limbs followed suit, Harry opened yellow eyes onto the darkness and finally saw his godfather, pacing back and forth on the other side of the gate. Sirius never was a patient man. 

Soon the pungent scents of the forest surrounding the castle grew to be a sharp sensation in his nose, and the rustling of night creatures he hadn’t noticed before became quite the nighttime din. It all fell away though as he succumbed fully to the transformation. His sharp talons dug into the frozen ground and a growing breeze riffled his feathers. 

With a joyous screech, he spread his wings and burst into the sky. Harry had always loved to fly, ever since that first lesson with Madame Hooch during their first year. There wasn’t a pastime he loved more, not even playing quidditch. He’d be quite content to just fly his broom every now and again if the sport of quidditch didn’t exist. 

Still, flying his broom was nothing at all like this. This…this was so much better. With four powerful beats of his wings, Harry loomed high over the castle castle gates and let the air currents carry him over without a sound. He screeched again in triumphant, filling to the brim with adrenaline and exuberance. 

He kept going, flying faster toward their portkey destination. He could hear Sirius chasing after him, catching up with only a few strides, barking loudly into the night. An eagle and a grim, they made quite the pair, racing through Hogsmeade, making a huge commotion. Severus and Blaise would have a fit when they heard the grumbling and whispering about the ruckus tomorrow. 

Harry twisted and dove down low, flying beside Sirius and nipping at his tail and back. Playful growls and snapping teeth met him at every turn as they teased and jostled each other. The night was cold and crisp and Harry lost himself to it as he flew. He flew high into the air and dove down low just as he did with his broom, but with even more control. In no time at all, they reached the outskirts of Hogsmeade, and Harry slowed, chancing a bumpy landing to perch on Sirius’ moving back. 

His talons dug into the long shaggy hair. Sirius tossed his head and growled a little as little claws slightly nicked the skin underneath. With a loud howl, he sped up and followed the answering howl to a copse of knotty trees a mile out from town. At their approach, Remus stepped away from the largest tree with a smile. 

“Glad to see you both made it.” 

Remus watched as Harry leapt from his godfather’s back and transformed back into a very familiar boy. 

“Hi Mooney!” Harry exclaimed with a large hug for the werewolf. “I’m glad you came.” 

“I’m happy to see you too Harry. You know I wouldn’t miss this for the world.” 

“How about some of that for your haggard godfather. I do believe I’m owed seeing as I carted you half way here, pup.” 

Harry grinned and turned to give Sirius a proper greeting as well. The pleasantries didn’t last long though. 

“Shall we be off then,” Remus prompted. 

“Yes, let’s hop to it,” Sirius agreed. “Off to Essex then are we?” 

Harry gave a sharp nod in reply, his eye narrowing in though. He had no idea what he would find there, but he was more than ready to find out. 

“Grab on Harry. This will activate soon,” Remus called quietly, holding out a tattered old hat, strongly reminiscent of the Sorting Hat actually. 

“That’s not going to slit open and yell at me or bite me is it?” 

Remus gave a gentle sigh while Sirius laughed in the background. “Don’t joke Harry,” Remus chided kindly, grabbing the boy’s hand and placing it on the hat. “We haven’t the time.” 

“Oh, give the boy a break,” Sirius grinned, slapping his hand down as well. “This is supposed to be an adventure.” 

Remus frowned slightly at his oldest friend, “Will you never take anything serious, Sirius?” 

“You’ve been waiting all day to say that one, haven’t you?” 

Before anyone could respond, their bodies jerked out of existence, leaving no trace…as if they’d never stood there in the first place.

\---:::---

Harry collapsed to his knees as soon as he hit solid ground. “I don’t think that will ever get better,” he groaned, grabbing his head. “I’d much rather apparate.”

“I know pup, but we’re here now,” Sirius said in a moment of solemnity, giving his godson a hand up. 

“Where is here exactly,” Harry asked, finally looking around. Unsurprisingly, they were in a deserted alley in a dreary little town. 

“It’s a small muggle town, Harry a little north of central Essex. Might as well start near the center,” Remus answered. “Also, we thought it better to start in a muggle town and not risk being recognized in any nearby wizarding townships at least until we disguise ourselves a wee bit.” 

Harry nodded. The last thing they needed to do was be recognized as Harry Potter, who should be at school, Sirius Black, who should be dead or in Azkaban – depending on who you asked – and Remus, a werewolf. Things still hadn’t improved for werewolf rights in the wizarding world. 

A short time later wearing light glamours and hats, three people stepped out into a deserted street. Sunlight was just peeking above the small town cottages and buildings, but it would soon be overcast as they could see a light drizzle coming to cool off an already chilly day even further. 

“Let’s get inside somewhere, shall we?” Remus suggested, pulling his jacket tighter around his body to stave off the breeze. 

Harry nodded and allowed Sirius and Remus to lead the way. They ended up in an unremarkable pub and chose to sit at the bar, the better to overhear conversations, not that there was much to overhear in fact. Most of the denizens of the small town were no doubt still at home in their beds this early in the morning or preparing for the day’s work. 

Still there were a few folk besides the pub owner lounging around the place. Sirius ordered them all a helping of apple and beef pie with a side of chips and ale. 

“Ain’t he a bi’ too young?” The owner asked, eyeing Harry carefully. “He ain’t a year over sixteen if I’m a day.” 

“It’s his birthday, mind making an exception?” the animagus asked with a grin. “His folks would kill me if they knew, but a godfather’s got to spoil his godson once in a while. Otherwise, he’ll never want to come on dreary little trips like this with me.” 

“Hmm,” the owner grumbled, then shrugged. The ale cost more than the juice, so it was no skin off his teeth if the boy got a little tipsy, long as their pounds were good. He turned to pull the drafts and in short order had the drinks in front of the strangers. 

“Food’ll be a while yet. The missus only just woke up and is putting the kettle on for herself. I spect she’ll have the pies heated and ready to eat in short order though.” 

“Cheers,” Remus nodded, lifting his glass to the owner. “Sounds just fine. What’s your name good sir?”

“Timothy, but nobody but my mother, rest her soul, don ever called me that. Timmy’s just fine for you lot and everybody else,” he answered with a self-righteous nod. 

Harry smiled. He couldn’t help but like old Timmy. The man was gruff and not one for manners. But, he had an honest way about him that reminded him somewhat of Hagrid. 

“Well, thanks Timmy,” Harry finally spoke up, pointing to the sweating glass in front of him. 

The man gave a shrug and thinking a bit better of it, turned to the boy with a marginally cheerful ‘happy birthday’. 

Harry only smiled, not wanting to mention it further because he honestly couldn’t remember the exact date it was, knowing only that it was now very early in December and consequently nowhere near his birthday. 

“What brings ya ta this small corner of the world anyway?” Timmy finally asked, wiping down the bar and straightening things up, presumably from the night before. 

“Well, I’m a bit of a historian. The both of us are really,” Sirius offered, gesturing to himself and Remus to his right. Pointing to Harry on his left, “This lad is tagging along as a sort of weekend trip for his birthday. We’re from London you see, and the three of have a fondness for old architecture and learning about great English families long past.” 

Harry looked at his godfather out the side of his eye, wondering where he got that load of bollox. 

Sirius merely winked at him, once he noticed his godson’s gaze. 

Harry shook his head, seeing now how Siri must have gotten out of so much trouble. He could see no surprise from Remus when he looked, so Harry figured that he must be right. His godfather was apparently a master at tall-tales among other things. 

“Hm,” Timmy mumbled, wadding up his dish cloth and throwing it into the sink behind. “Can’t say you’ll find much o’ anythin’ like that in these parts. Jus’ a small town on the edge of pasture and farmland in the north side of the county.” He scratched his head in thought. “You’d find more excitin’ things in the south near Harlow, I imagine. That’s where all o’ the wannabe city folk live that are too ‘fraid to go on ta London.” 

“Is that so,” Sirius asked. “Seems we might have made a bit of a mistake in our research then. We are amateurs at this I’m afraid. I’m a banker in my day-to-day you see. And, George here is a boring old librarian.” 

“Speak for yourself, David,” Remus snorted. “There’s nothing wrong with being a librarian, and I hardly find it boring.” 

Harry dropped his head to the bar top. Dear Merlin, Remus was as bad as Sirius. 

Still pondering the strange folk in his pub, Timmy looked them over. “Well, sure we have old buildings here, but nothing I woulda’ called historical or nothing. Maybe you want to try Kent or Canterbury?” 

“Might as well, we have the whole weekend,” Sirius nodded slowly, scratching his fingers through the thick beard he’d transfigured onto his face. “Tell me though, before we pack it in. Ever heard of any Potters in this area?”

Timmy closed his eyes and tipped his head toward the ceiling in thought. “Potters you say?” 

Remus nodded though the man couldn’t see him. “Say what he may about my profession as a librarian, my research tells me that some of the first Potters in recorded history settled long term in Essex. We thought it might be neat for young Jonathan here to come with us to see somewhat of where or how they might have lived. His great-great-great many times over second cousin on his mother’s side was a Potter, you know?” 

“You don’ say,” Timmy asked, looking back at the man, slowly getting taken in by them and confused by the convoluted family tree he was trying to describe.

“Though Jonathan is a…Green nowadays, Jonathan Green,” Sirius added with a coughing snicker. 

Harry rolled his eyes. “You’re not clever Uncle David, and you’re hardly one to talk,” he retorted, speaking under his breath. 

“Well, lads I can’t say that I can be much help to ya, but before you go runnin’ off, the missus will have those pies ready soon enough an’ you can ask her. Daisy’s family been ‘round these parts much longer that I have. She may know somewhat ‘bout it. Jus’ wait a mo’, an I’ll see if I can’t get her up here to see to ya.” 

“Mighty kind of you sir,” Harry finally spoke up again, smiling at the man. “And, even if she can’t it’ll be nice to get some food anyhow.” 

The man finally, cracked a small smile. They were nice enough people although plenty strange. Didn’t bother Timmy much though. Being a pub owner and all, it was his job to get along with strange customers. He left through a side door and walked down a few steps into the downstairs kitchen to search out those pies and his wayward wife. 

Harry sighed into his drink once they were alone, “So you don’t think it’s here,” he finally asked into the silence. 

Remus cracked his back and looked around Sirius at Harry, “Well, I wouldn’t say that just yet, Jon. It could be that this man just doesn’t know. Potters haven’t resided permanently in the Potter Manor for at least a couple generations if not more. Besides, even when they did, who’s to say they ventured into any muggle towns to be heard of or remembered later.” 

“Right, don’t give hope just yet, pup. We’ll find at least some clue if not the whole darn thing this weekend. We won’t quit until we have to. Besides, Essex isn’t a very small county. There’s more places to search. There’s got to be at least one wizarding settlement nearby that we can search out if need be. We just didn’t want anyone to get wind that we’re searching for Potters and get the wrong idea…or even the right idea. Searching for Potters for any reason these days can get you into trouble as you well know. Hopefully, we can happen upon something big if we get a clue from any of the muggles before having to go down that route.” 

“Thank you,” Harry whispered, turning back to his drink for a large gulp. He actually liked it. It was stronger than butter beer, but much easier on the tongue and throat than Firewhisky.

“Hello boys,” a bright voice sounded in front of them. “Ordered some pies did ya?” 

“That we did ma’am,” Sirius smiled charmingly. “David’s the name. Good morning to you. Thanks for fixing us some food this early.” 

She smiled with a shrug, “‘Tween us it’s jus’ leftovers from last nigh’, so it migh’ not be fresh, an’ it wasn’t that difficult ta re-heat for ya. We don’ get many people in here asking for food before supper, so we don’ really have any breakfast fare, and it wouldn’t serve us well any to bake a fresh dinner pie and chips that would go stale before the dinner rush. Hope you don’ mind,” she remarked honestly without a care. 

Remus nodded and slid his plate closer, digging in, “We’ve had worse I’m sure.” Which given their history – outcast werewolf, Azkaban prisoner and boarder at the Dursleys – that wasn’t a lie at all.

“Now then,” she dusted off her hands and placed them on her hips. “Timmy’s been telling me that ya looking for a bit o’ history in these parts. I can’t say that we’ve got much ta really look at, but I do know of some Potters from way back when.” 

“Really,” Harry brightened right up, ignoring his half-eaten pie and chips. 

“Right boy-o,” she smiled at his enthusiasm, strange though it was. She couldn’t imagine why anyone, especially a young lad like him would care about a bygone family like the Potters, even if his great whoever on his mother’s side was a relation to them. Anyhow, since it seemed to please him and put an expectant face on him she continued. 

“Some o’ my relations, most o’ ‘em dead and gone now, used ta work in a province not far from here and used ta work the grounds for some Potters, strange folk they were my grandmother used to tell me. She had stories that her mother would tell her at bedtime, silly fancies about flying pots and wiggling plants that might eat ya if ya came too close. As a child, my friends and I would go looking for this big old ‘ouse, but never found anythin’ o’ the sort.”

“That’s quite the story,” Sirius remarked, smiling through his beard. “Do you happen to know where this place might have been. I mean where did you go off looking for it?” 

Daisy cocked her head in thought. “It’s been so long, but we rode our bikes out every day for a whole summer one year, so it couldn’t have been far. At least to our estimation…we were children mind you and searching for fantasy at that. I can’t give ya much more than that, ‘cept that we most often searched northwest of here a bit, maybe ten ta fifteen kilometers. I can’t say why now, can’t remember. But, I imagine that grandmother must have set us off that way.” 

“That’s very helpful. Any, landmarks that might still be standing that you can describe to us, just so we know we’re going the right way,” Remus asked. 

“Ya truly goin’ out there? Ya won’t find nothing,” she frowned. 

“It’ll be an adventure nonetheless,” Sirius assured the woman. “We did come all the way out here, might as well go all the way.”

“Suit yerself,” she replied. “I’ll do ya one better on the landmark though. Tiff went off and got herself one o’ those fancy cameras at the end of the summer that year, and I’m sure I still have a photo I can show ta ya. Ya can’t take it with ya mind ya,” she gave the men and strange boy the stink eye. It was a treasured memory of hers, and with strange fellas like these who knew what they’d do. Might run off with her picture without a by your leave just find something that don’t even exist. 

“I’ll just run up and see if I can find it. Wait here and holler for Timmy if ya need somewhat else while I’m gone,” she called, looking over her shoulder one last time before heading out a side door and going up the stairs instead of down to the kitchen. 

“Hurry up with your food, pup,” Sirius encouraged, wolfing his down too. “We’ll be leaving as soon as she’s back.”

“Right,” Harry grinned. They may have found it, and he couldn’t be more thrilled. He finally began to allow more anticipation to build within his chest. “This could be it Siri. This could be my…my home,” he said quietly. “I can’t explain it Padfoot, but I really want this to be it.” 

Siri gave him a gentle smile with emotion behind his eyes, “I know, my boy. I understand entirely,” he replied, pulling his godson in for a hug. Truly, he did understand. Although his background with his family was fraught, Sirius never dreaded going to Black Manor on the Continent, the heart of his magic and ancestry…dark though it was.” 

“Alrigh’ here you go. Take a good look because I’ll be takin’ that back from ya before ya leave,” Daisy reminded them, breaking into the silence that had fallen as they finished their food. 

“Hm,” Remus hummed, gazing over the photo with Sirius’ head close to his. He ignored the group of young children and teens in the foreground, quite a few of them to be honest, a bit more than he’d imagined at first. 

His eyes focused in on the background. There was half of a destroyed brick wall in the background and a rusted, gilded gate, hanging from its hinges, attached to the wall’s edge. Nothing stood behind it or before it. The both of them seemed quite out of place, separated as they were from any building or larger structure. 

“Thank you, Daisy. You’ve been a big help to us,” Sirius spoke, taking his eyes away from the photo and passing it to Harry to have a look. 

In no time, they paid the lady and left the pub with polite yet impatient goodbyes. They may very well have struck gold at the first place they’d visited. 

Furtively returning to the alleyway they’d arrived in, Harry turned to the older men. “Are we planning to walk? It might take some time to find the way on foot. We don’t know exactly how long or how far they traveled on bikes all those years ago. And, the landscape may have changed.”

“True,” Remus agreed, “but Daisy couldn’t have been much older than us if not the same age. It can’t have been more than thirty years or so since that photo was taken. Things likely haven’t changed that much. In any case, we’re going to apparate there.” 

“Apparate! We’ve never been there before.” 

Sirius nodded, “That’s why we looked so closely at the photo and asked about the heading. Hopefully, focusing on what the area should look like and the direction we should be going from here will get us in the right place.” 

Harry gulped. “Sounds risky. Let’s do it.”

“That’s my boy. Hang on tight,” Sirius directed, grasping Harry’s hand tightly. Together they all formed a circle, and with a crack, they were gone. 

It was short trip, but since they didn’t know where they were going, none of them were prepared for the landing. Remus was the first to regain his feet and look around. “Looks like it worked. We’re here.” He took in the broken wall and hanging gate. Beyond that, there was nothing on either side of them, just open land as far as the eye could see. 

Sirius groaned. “Let’s not do that again for a while, yeah?” 

Remus chuckled, “Agreed.” 

“Harry,” they both called, looking over at the boy still on his hands and knees. “You alright?”

“Better than alright,” he choked out. He could feel magic like never before, not even when they’d opened the portal to get Sirius back had he felt anything like this. Looking down at his hands anchoring him on the ground, he felt as though he could almost see the magic, rolling and zipping across his skin, and yet it didn’t hurt in the slightest. He felt a tightness around his chest from the sheer magnitude and density of the magic, but it was warm. So very warm. It…” It’s happy to see me, I think,” he spoke aloud, finally raising his head. 

“What is?” Sirius asked in a hesitant voice. Did the boy hit his head? 

“My home,” Harry grinned. Instinctively, he clapped his hands loudly together and spread them slowly apart until his arms reached their full span. 

Sirius and Remus blinked slowly as the air rippled and before them a magnificent manor house began to appear before them, as if Harry had literally parted a veil or them. It appeared to be a few hundred yards off still, but there it was, Potter Manor, unmistakably a strong, magical home. 

The land surrounding it was quite obviously the grounds. Unkempt though they were, they were vast, and vegetation grew in abundance. Trees, that would bear fruit and be home to young birds in the summer, vines and bushes. It was everything you’d expect from a great wizarding home, yet it was dark and lonely. It was clear that no one had lived here in ages. 

Before they could stop him, Harry was running full tilt toward the building, and Remus and Sirius had no choice but to draw their wands and give chase. At the very least there had to be at least one bogart if not more in the home. They still needed to be on their guard, at least until they could examine the place bit further.

Harry, it seemed, had no such qualms. He knew without a shadow of a doubt that if he was safe anywhere in the world it was within those walls. Before long he was panting at the front door. 

“Be careful Harry,” Sirius spoke quietly behind him, heaving just as much. 

Harry nodded absently and slowly reached for the handle. He tried to take it all in at once. The majestic brick, the large staircase they’d ascended, the towers and bay windows. It was amazingly overwhelming. Without wasting another minute, he grasped the handle and exhaled. Closing his eyes, he felt the magic humming louder here just beneath his fingers. He didn’t need to ask Sirius anything. With a small nudge from his own core, magic swept from the contact point of his hand through the towering doors, the walls and windows of the structure, through the halls and ceilings, stairs, towers and floors. From the foundation to the very edges of the land it swept through and around the Manor, revitalizing all that it touched, rebuilding all that was broken. 

With an overwhelmed gasp, Harry dropped his hand and the front door creaked open. Sweat dotted his face, and his shoulders sagged with exhaustion. 

“Let’s…go in…shall we?” he prompted, fatigue and happiness showing clear across his face. 

Hundreds of yards behind them, the air rippled once again hiding the magic and splendor of Potter Manor from prying eyes, both muggle and magical.

\---:::---

Miles away, Blaise gasped and clutched his chest in the Slytherin common room. Draco spun to look at him from his spot by the fireplace, and Daphne placed a hand on his shoulder to steady him.

“Blaise, what’s the matter?” she asked, waving Draco over when he didn’t rise at her gentle nudging. 

He lifted his head and looked at Draco who was now kneeling in front of him. “He found it,” he rasped, his eyes growing a clear, dark purple. “I can feel it.” 

“Blaise, your eyes,” the girl gasped. 

Zabini shut them tight, but he knew that the strength of the magic Harry was channeling would still be visible in his eyes if he opened them again. 

With a shock, the magic was gone and Blaise was slowly able to regain his equilibrium. Bloody hell, he groaned. He’d never tried to channel his ancestral magic at Zabini Manor, but he wanted to now. He could only imagine that he’d felt only a tenth of what Harry was feeling since the magic wasn’t meant for him, but still he’d gotten a significant boost just now. He can’t imagine was Harry might have felt. Surely, it was overpowering. With that thought, he started to feel just a touch worried, but when he concentrated only a little he could still feel Harry on the end of that invisible magical tether, humming just a brightly as before if not more so. Maybe just a little tired at the moment, but that was okay. 

“We are now one step closer,” he grinned at Draco. Everyone, especially Harry, would be pleased.

\---:::---

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, that’s it for chapter 25. I hope you all enjoyed it! I had so much fun writing it. In the comments on chapter 24, there was a question about why Dumbledore was after Harry. I hope the discussion between Severus and Sirius helped elucidate that a little bit. Dumbledore isn’t just out to get Harry or anything like that, he’s slowly deteriorating from the curse, and it’s affecting his judgement as well as his physical health. 
> 
> We all saw in Deathly Hallows how carrying around the locket messed with the minds of Ron, Hermione and Harry, especially Ron. Dumbledore is going through something similar, except it’s a bit worse as he’s suffering from the full blown curse, not just the effects of carrying around one of Voldemort’s horcruxes. 
> 
> If there are any other questions, definitely let me know. I love to hear from you guys. Thanks so much for all of your comments and kudos thus far. Stay tuned for the next chapter!  
> -TSS


	26. Chapter 26

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, I don’t know about you all, but this is my fastest update in a long time. I know it probably doesn’t feel that way at all to you guys, and I’m sorry about that, but I’m feeling good about how I picked up the pace a little bit. In any case, to help you all out I still want to go ahead and do a very brief summary of the last chapter, just in case it has been awhile for some of you and you can’t remember everything. 
> 
> Previously in 20 Feet…Harry begins to feel anxious about finding his manor a key step, in the plan to expel Voldemort from Malfoy Manor. Harry needs the strength from his ancestral magic to completely remove Voldemort from the wards at Malfoy Manor. However, he doesn’t know where his manor is or how to tap into that magical pool. 
> 
> While the others are finalizing other aspects of the plan outside of Hogwarts, the students were tasked with locating Potter Manor. At the end of chapter 24, Harry has a breakthrough and finds a clue that his home might be somewhere in Essex. 
> 
> In chapter 25, he sneaks out of the castle with help from Severus and goes off in search of Potter Manor with Sirius and Remus. Along the way, they meet Timothy, a pub owner, and his wife who point them in the right direction.
> 
> I think that should bring everyone up to speed. If not, just drop me a line in the comments and I’ll help answer any questions you might have. Enjoy! 
> 
> (P.S. As always, I’m my own beta so if there are any glaring errors, type-os etc., please let me know.)

**Chapter 26**

Harry stepped into the vast foyer with such little breath he could scarcely gasp. 

“Who’s there?” a scratchy voice called out, echoing through the darkness of the cavernous foyer. 

In an instant three wands cut through the air, pointing into the darkness. With a whispered lumos, stray candelabras and sconces lit the foyer, bringing into view an august staircase, leading to the second floor and two walkways to the right and left of the stairs. Harry had no doubt that the house extended onwards beyond those walkways, and he was anxious to explore. Yet, in the meantime, they should probably attend to the disembodied voice who by all rights most certainly should NOT have been in his home. 

“Answer me I say!” the much disused voice bellowed once again into the silence. 

Harry nodded to the left, the direction they heard the voice emanating from, but Sirius and Remus were already on the move with grim expressions on their faces. 

“Charlus, do stop your yelling, please. You’re going to give me quite the earache.” 

“Isn’t as if you have real ears to begin with,” the male voice, presumably belonging to this Charlus character, snickered. 

“Ow, woman! What did you do that for? You can’t go on like that, tearing at a man’s ears for no good reason.” 

“Oh so you felt that did you, despite not having _real_ ears?” the sardonic female voice echoed through the hall. 

“Confounded woman,” the voice grumbled. “I am trying to protect our home, which has been invaded if you haven’t noticed, and here you are assaulting me. I told that good-for-nothing grandson of ours, Henry, to put our second set of frames in the front entrance, so that we could see, and yet here we languish.” 

“Will you stop your griping, there’s little to be done about it now,” the female voice responded. 

“And grandfather, do not blame me. It was my wife who preferred the florals on the walls of the entrance hall, not me.” 

“Oh don’t crowd my frame boy. Go back to your own in the third study or visit with your great-grandmother, and carry her back to her own frame while you’re at it. This one isn’t big enough for the three of us, and I have more important things to do than to-”

“Don’t make me sound so old husband or I’ll clout you. Just like you and everyone else, I had my portrait taken not a day over fifty.” 

“Hello,” Harry called out finally after watching the three get on for quite some time. The three corporeal beings in the room had wandered in several minutes ago, quite as can be from their training with Alessandro. Even the more seasoned adults had taken their turn with him. 

As Harry looked on in amusement it turned out that the voices belonged to enchanted portraits, most likely of Harry’s ancestors. He’d be quite overwhelmed at meeting another Potter (even in portrait form) if they didn’t seem so…well normal.

Sirius was smirking at the interplay while Remus merely shook his head and tucked away his wand. 

“Blast it all. Now they’ve snuck up on us; I hope you two are pleased now,” Charlus, presumably, grumbled. 

The woman drew herself up and returned to her own frame and called out imperiously, “Just who are you?”

“I’m Harry. Harry Potter,” he answered, shuffling his feet, never happier or more uneasy to lay claim to his name. For some reason, he felt quite nervous at meeting these people. Painted or not they were still of some kin to him he believed, and he wanted to make a good impression. 

“Come closer boy,” the second man waved him over. This man was thin with dark wispy hair, just like Harry’s. The other man who didn’t look a day older than the first, but was called grandfather, had the same patented dark hair, but apparently the style for males of his day was to wear his hair longer. It wasn’t nearly as unkempt. Perhaps the added length and weight, pulled it in order a bit more? 

As Harry stood before the portraits, all three of them stared at Harry for a great length. 

“Harry was it now?” 

The boy in question swallowed quietly and nodded yes. 

“You do look a great bit like my Fleamont, that you do,” said the man with longer hair. “You wouldn’t happen to be my grandson, James would you? If so, not nearly so much time as I’d thought has passed, and I ought to give you what for, for not visiting your home more often. Godric’s Hollow is a wonderful place, and our ancestors would be proud that we’ve kept in the family, but you’ve no business raising children there without ever bringing them to the Manor.” 

The man eyed him closer as he paused in chastisement, “Well, you look like a child yourself, so perhaps you don’t have any children just yet.” 

Before Harry or anyone else could speak, the second man spoke up again, “Father, that isn’t my James. How many times must I tell you that…that James is no more,” he said quietly. 

The woman reached over across frames and patted the young man’s hand in sympathy. “It’s such a shame that James and his wife weren’t able to sit for their portraits before their deaths,” she shook her head. 

“Well then, just who is this boy?” 

Harry cleared his throat, “As I’ve said before, I’m Harry Potter. Harry _James_ Potter.” 

“My grandson?” Fleamont croaked, stepping into the forefront of the portrait, trying to get as close as possible. “And, James never brought you to meet us before he died? Just where have you been living? What have you been doing?” 

A bevy of questions were hurled at Harry, but finally he was able to cut in. “The war was really raging when I was born, and they were killed when I was just a year old. They were hiding away at Godric’s Hollow because it wasn’t safe to be out and about. The Dark Lord Voldemort was after us.” 

“Voldemort!” Fleamont cried. “That dried up disgrace of a wizard murdered my James?” He fumed in the frame next his grandfather.

“Didn’t you know?” 

“Harry,” the woman spoke up, “how could we? We only exist within the confines of our frames, all of which are here in this place. We have no news of the outside world because no living person has set foot in here in such a very long time.” 

Fleamont shook his head, “If he were in such danger, why wouldn’t he have come here? There’s no safer place for a Potter; surely he would have known that? I taught him better than that.” 

At last Sirius spoke up, “We can’t answer that. James was our very best friend, and he never once even told us where this place was. We’ve had a heck of time locating it as it is without James, but we’re here now.” 

They all turned to him, and Sirius gave a bow to the elders. “Sirius Orion Black at your service. Harry here is my godson and my pride and joy.”

“I am Remus Lupin. I grew up with James, Sirius and Lilly. We were all really quite close.” 

At last, the woman smiled, “I am Dorea Potter nee Black. Be welcome here. Despite all of our questions, we’re so very happy to see you young Harry. It’s been so long since we’ve seen living, breathing kin or anyone for that matter. The air and magic was growing quite stale around here. We need young ones around to keep our home vibrant. We knew you were out there; we’d know if our line died out completely, but-”

“We don’t know you, but we’ve missed you,” Charlus finished for her, grinning and reaching out until he was stopped by the confines of the portrait. “Family is the most important thing to us, so we can’t say how truly glad we are that you’ve come home.” 

Harry’s answering smile was blinding. His eyes filled with unshed tears, and he felt such a sense of homecoming…greater even than his first step inside Potter Manor. 

“Now,” Fleamont called out, “Come up to my study, well what used to be my study. Everything here now belongs to you Harry. But, we can discuss all of that later. The study is much more comfortable than this receiving hall, so come up to the study and tell us all about yourself.” 

“Yes, and we will tell you all about your history as a Potter,” Dorea nodded, stated in such a way that Harry felt he didn’t have a choice in the matter. Not that he cared, he wanted to learn as much as he could about his family. 

He’d never know why his parents chose to hide themselves in Godric’s Hollow or why they kept the Manor a secret from even their closest friends, but he was here now, and that’s all that mattered. He’d never stay away that long again. 

This was home; Harry felt it down to his bones.

\---:::---

Walking through the dark yet spacious halls, following his two-dimensional grandfather and great-great-great grandparents, Harry felt like he was hearing a song he’d been humming for years. He’d never known the melody in full, never heard it outright. It was just a tune echoing in the back of his mind, largely ignored. But, now he heard it in full, and it was resounding, pounding in his ears.

When he told Sirius and Remus about it as he walked, his godfather explained that it was most likely his magic, like experiencing a rapid growth spurt his magical core was growing, absorbing some of his ancestral magic just by being in his home. Sirius and Remus felt fine because they couldn’t harness this type of energy; it was only for Harry, those of his blood and those magically bonded to him.

“Right, and I wouldn’t be surprised if Blaise felt something to a smaller degree of course, given the nature of your bond,” Remus mused. “I doubt he could ignore such an influx of magic as you felt when you first opened the manor doors.” 

“What’s this now?” Fleamont asked, stopping in a frame next to a heavy door on the right side of the hallway two flights up the stairs. “What bond? Young Harry’s much too young to be bonded. What are you doing with my grandson,” Fleamont demanded protectively. 

Sirius chuckled, “Well, that was more of Harry’s doing than any of ours.” 

“You went and eloped?” Dorea asked, her lips contorting into a small disapproving moue.

Harry shook his head. “No, but it’s a little complicated and Blaise and I are actually in um…” he coughed and cleared his throat in slight discomfort. He loved Blaise, but it was still a little awkward to tell his grandparents and other great, greats that he had a boyfriend. 

He was saved from continuing though as Charlus, elbowed past Fleamont and disappeared from the frame. “The others are behind this door.. Charlus has gone ahead, just head on in. We’ll be in there when you’re ready, and you can finish telling us all about this _Blaise_ character then,” Dorea spoke, somewhere between disapproving and awe at speaking to her last remaining kin. 

Harry merely shook his head and grasped the doorknob. He was held back though by his godfather. 

“Harry, if you want to take a minute you can.” 

The boy cocked his head. “Why?” 

“Well, there’s probably a lot of your family in there, portraits or not. It could be a might overwhelming.” 

Harry hadn’t considered that. He’d been so shocked and then swept up by conversation with Dorea, Charlus and Fleamont that he hadn’t taken any time to consider how he felt about everything. Now that Sirius had pointed it out, Harry mightily wished that Blaise could have come with him. The Slytherin was so steady and calming. Harry missed him. 

Still, this wasn’t the time to worry about that nor cower before a closed door when there was nothing to fear on the other side. He’d be back with Blaise soon. And, this was his family. They wouldn’t hurt him, not that they could anyway, being mere swipes of magically animated paint. 

“It’ll be alright Siri. _”I’ll_ be alright,” Harry assured both him and Remus – who was looking at him curiously as well. 

Turning back to the door, Harry entered the dark, quiet study and came face to paint with his extended family on his father’s side. He’d already met his grandfather, great-great-great grandmother and grandfather. Now—after a spoken lumos and a quick scorgify to remove the dust from the portraits—he was swiftly introduced to his grandmother, Euphemia, his great-great grandparents and many other great uncles and aunts and third cousins twice removed. So many people it made him dizzy. It wasn’t long before he thought that he’d better sit down. 

For the next few hours, Harry, Remus and Sirius nearly talked themselves hoarse, explaining the events of the last Hogwarts term, starting at the very beginning with Harry’s misadventure with the Zabini heir in the Room of Requirement. 

“The Zabinis are a very respectable family,” Euphemia spoke up positively at that part, making her grandson smile. 

They told them about Amaunet and the Pit of Negation, about Harry’s pledge of sanctuary for the Malfoys and Rabastan as well as the plan to attack Malfoy Manor. They didn’t mention the blood connection between Voldemort and Harry though. Harry felt implicitly that he could trust his family, but some things were better left unsaid. 

That connection was a double-edged sword that could both help and harm Harry. It was better that few knew of it because if it somehow got back to Voldemort, there’s no predicting what he would do with such knowledge. 

As the others sat in silence, contemplating all that they’d learned in such a short time, Dorea looked at the man claiming to be the godfather of her great-great-great grandson. 

“You there,” Dorea called out, nodding to Sirius, “you’re Harry’s godfather you said, a Black?” 

Sirius nodded, lifting his chin defiantly. “Yes, I am.” 

“The Potters and Blacks were very close once upon a time,” she remarked thoughtfully. “I am testament to that.” She nodded with a proud smile, “It is more than welcome to see a resurfacing of that bond. We were once quite the powerful alliance.”

“I think you’ll find that since I am all that’s left of House Black that there’s no one left to tear us apart again. I’ll always protect Harry.”

“Good,” she nodded sharply, quite pleased with that answer. She was a Black and a Potter; Harry and Sirius were both of her blood. She was proud at how close they were. With what they were telling them, young Harry was going to need every ally he could muster.

Silence reigned throughout the room as each person settled into their own thoughts. After some time, Harry groaned quietly and put his hand to his head. They’d discussed a lot that afternoon and late into the evening. It had only been a day, but it was finally starting to catch up with Harry. 

He was feeling tired from the early wakeup call and the exciting revelations of the day. More than that though-

“What’s wrong my boy?” the voice of his grandfather rang out. 

Before Harry could respond he felt two warm hands on his body. Sirius was pressing his hand on Harry’s forehead while Remus steadied his shoulder. 

“Are you alright Harry?” the werewolf asked. 

Harry nodded his head. “Yes, I’m fine. Just a little overstrain from the bond. It’s not too bad right now.”

“Do you want to return to Hogwarts, pup? We can always come back. The Manor won’t disappear while we’re gone.” Sirius spoke up, squatting in front of Harry to look him in the eyes. 

The boy shook his head, reluctant to leave his ancestral home so soon. “It’s nothing like in the beginning. I felt similarly when Blaise went to Italy back in October.” 

Sirius nodded, “You’re probably feeling a bit worse than before though since I’m sure you must be hungry and a little overtired on top of everything else.” 

Harry just hummed and nodded. “You’re probably right.” 

He looked around, past his godfather’s shoulder. “I take it there are beds here that we can use.” 

His grandmother, Euphemia, smiled at him, “Of course there are, my dear boy. Can’t promise they’re not dusty though. We haven’t had any elves in here, in quite some time.” 

“We can take care of that,” Sirius smiled. “Kreacher.” 

They waited only seconds before a near silent pop echoed through the room. “Lord Black and Master half-blood Harry Potter be calling Kreacher?” 

“Hello Kreacher,” Sirius and Harry greeted at the same time. 

“Mister Lupin,” the elf nodded at the other man in the room. “How may Kreacher be helping?” 

“Kreacher, this is Potter Manor, my home. We don’t have any elves here. Can you help us restore three of the bedrooms and manage something for dinner?” Harry asked. 

Kreacher nodded slowly his ascent, “Master half-blood Harry Potter be giving Kreacher permission to work in Potter Manor?” 

Harry lifted an eyebrow in question and turned to Sirius, but it was Dorea who answered his unasked question. 

“Kreacher is a Black house-elf I presume. As such, he shouldn’t be able to do the type of work you’re requesting inside of Potter Manor at least without permission from the Lord of the Manor. In most cases, house-elves bound to other families wouldn’t do work in other homes unless there was a close bond between the two houses. It’s normally not very safe as house-elves have nearly unrestricted access to entire home and family. You want to give an unknown elf that sort leeway.” 

“I see,” Harry nodded. 

Sirius shrugged his shoulders. “That shouldn’t be a problem as Harry is my legal and magical heir. He will be Kreacher’s master once I am gone, and he’ll have equal claim to both the Potter and Black legacy and properties.” 

“Kreacher you have permission to take care of this home as you do for Grimmauld. I know that’s likely a tall order, so I’ll see about getting you some help.” 

“As you be wishing. I will take care of sleep areas and supper for today. Call Kreacher if you be needing more.”

Harry scratched his neck. “I never imagined myself having any house elves, especially after freeing Dobby. I’m not sure how I feel about it. Kreacher’s one thing. He might slip back into insanity if he’s freed from the Black line. I just…I don’t know if I want more house elves.” 

“You get that from your mother,” Euphemia said with a wistful expression. 

“You knew my mother, grandmother?” 

“Yes, I did. Lilly and James were together for quite some time before we died. But, unfortunately that was years before you were born. Fleamont and I were quite fond of her although we did find her a bit strange at times. She was uncomfortable with house-elves too, and she wasn’t very fond of our manor either. She wasn’t brought up to it, you know? Preferred something much smaller.” 

“Well that answers that question,” Remus chuckled. “We’d wondered why Harry knew nothing about his home. 

“I’m sure James would have brought you to meet us at the very least once you were a bit older, but Lilly preferred Godric’s Hollow, and it was obviously manageable without elves, so all of the Potter elves were likely released or taken on by other families if they so chose,” Fleamont answered. “Many elves do, you know? Choose to work for other families if theirs dies out or something.”

“That makes sense. Anyway, that’s something I can deal with later. I don’t hate elves, quite the opposite. I just feel strange actually owning one.” 

“That aside, there are other alternatives. Besides, as Harry says, we can deal with that later,” Henry spoke up, sweeping his hair from his face in his ornate frame. “Why don’t you all check on the progress of your elf and get some rest before supper. We’ll still be here and can discuss tomorrow harnessing the power you need for this attack of yours. Quite inspired might I say again,” he grinned. 

“You Potter men are all reckless and carelessly brave. If it weren’t for your better halves, you’d all be doomed,” Dorea rolled her eyes, the only Slytherin amongst a roomful of Gryffindors and a scattered smattering of Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs.

\---:::---

Voldemort stalked through the halls of Malfoy Manor past his cowering followers, simpering fools that didn’t deserve to be called Death Eaters, but he needed numbers, so he wasn’t very particular. Moreover, he liked having people beneath him that he could torment at a moment’s notice and force to do his bidding. A large number of them were unwilling servants and pitiful sniveling mongrels. He loved debasing them the most.

His more loyal followers—Yaxley, Rookwood, Dolohov, Crouch, Bellatrix and Rodolphus—he enjoyed less because they didn’t scream and writhe beneath his wand quite like the others. Bellatrix seemed to even like it. Still, they were undoubtedly the most capable and faithful of his followers, insane though they were. The loss of the Malfoys and Severus had been an unexpected and unfathomable blow. He’d yet to find a more capable potions master, and despite having unrestricted access to Malfoy Manor it was unnerving to have lost the financial support he’d once held at his fingertips. 

Voldemort growled as he threw open the door to Lucius’ personal study. As he stormed through the room, his magic whipping around him and rustling the parchment on the desk, he gnashed his teeth and paced about the room. 

It wasn’t that he didn’t know about Lucius’ resentment toward him. It was blatant, and Voldemort was nobody’s fool. He saw through Malfoy, saw his disgusting fear and his impotent hatred. 

“Everyone is beneath me,” he muttered to himself. “I am the supreme being destined to rule the magical world and subjugate the muggle world. There is nothing I don’t know and no one living that is my equal.” 

His bloodshot eyes roamed about this head and barely took in his surroundings. “SO HOW DID THEY ESCAPE ME!” He hollered in a fit of uncontrollable rage. “It is inconceivable. Those sniveling, cowardly fools. You cannot hide from me! I will find you, and you will all regret the day that you turned your back on the Dark Lord.”

“Milord,” a voice called from the entrance, tentatively knocking on the doorframe. 

“What is it!” the Voldemort hissed, whipping to his right with his back curved at an awkward angle. 

Rookwood entered the room and shut the door firmly. He lifted his head calmly and announced, “All of the wandering members have been discreetly summoned as you ordered and should arrive here over the course of the next three weeks or more.” 

“Good,” Voldemort grinned, his blackened teeth and lipless visage created quite the terrifying image. However, it was the stark madness that lurked behind his eyes that truly evoked fear in those around him. “It is time that everyone was reminded of what happens if they betray their lord and master. Have Yaxley ready the sick ward as a large number of beds will be needed. This will not be a quick nor painless lesson, and we don’t want all of the maggots to die. Only some.” 

“Yes, milord. It will be done.” 

Voldemort hummed to himself and swished his wand through the air gleefully, a laugh bubbling up ashen his throat. They had no idea what they were in store for, and neither did he.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well everyone, that’s the end of this chapter. It’s pretty short, and as you might have assumed, we’ll have a bit of a time jump in the next chapter, and things will really get started. I hope you enjoyed this primer for this next few chapters. I’ll be spreading the action across several chapters as I usually do, so everything won’t happen at once. That’s all you get as far as teasers go. I don’t want to spoil anything or set expectations too much.
> 
> Also, I looked up Harry’s family tree. That was really fun and interesting to delve into because they don’t go into that much in canon. So, according to the HP wiki article I read, those are the real names of some of his ancestors. In this fic, it’s a Potter tradition to have your portrait taken at fifty. With the extended lifetimes of wizards and witches this is still quite young, but old enough for the portraits to have amassed a good amount of experience and memories to be of help to future generations while still protecting their vanity lol. :)
> 
> That’s why there aren’t any portraits of Lilly and James because they were still too young for the tradition. Also, I have some of the portraits/family members calling Lilly a little strange. No one take offense. I’m not bashing her. She just grew up several, several decades after these guys, so of course they’re not as ‘hip’ so to speak to the times back in the 80’s, and they didn’t quite understand some of her muggle inclinations (like wanting a smaller, cozier home) and more modern sensibilities. They still loved her and were pleased to welcome her into the family nonetheless. 
> 
> Lastly, I’m making Yaxley the resident healer for Voldemort and his followers. Just picked a name from his inner circle and thought it appropriate that they have at least one healer that Voldemort kind of sort of trusted…I mean how much can a paranoid psychopath really trust anyone? 
> 
> Anyway, that’s enough of my rambling. Again, I hope you enjoyed this short chapter. I really wanted to post something soon, so I kept it short. I hope to have the next chapter up in the next few weeks, definitely before Christmas. 
> 
> Thanks for sticking around for the ride so far. Please read and review! And, as always thank you all for the kudos and wonderful comments thus far. Cheers!


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